nine lives (and a tenth for good behavior)
by Tarafina
Summary: Three years ago, Bonnie Bennett died. After waking up in an unmarked grave, she returns to the land of the living with a whole lot of questions. Like how did she die? Who brought her back? Where is Damon? And how long until the cruel grip of Death comes for her again? [3-parts & an epilogue]
1. dirt

**genre** : angst/romance  
 **ship** : bonnie/damon ; side stefan/caroline  
 **chapter rating** : pg-13/teen  
 **overall rating** : nc-17/explicit  
 **word count** : 8,910  
 **summary** : Three years ago, Bonnie Bennett died. After waking up in an unmarked grave, she returns to the land of the living with a whole lot of questions. Like how did she die? Who brought her back? Where is Damon? And how long until the cruel grip of Death comes for her again?

* * *

 _ **nine lives (and a tenth for good behavior)**_  
-1/3-

Dirt. It was all she tasted. It invaded her mouth and nose and crowded around her, penning her in. It was _everywhere_. Saying she was buried in it wasn't a metaphor so much as a terrifying truth. She was _literally_ buried in dirt. Six feet under. Something wiggled against her cheek and she just _knew_ that it was a worm. Because somehow, despite everything, she'd died.

Died.

Died.

 _Died_.

Only she wasn't dead. Not anymore.

So she started clawing her way up from the cold earth, her lungs squeezing and seizing as she struggled to get air. She pushed and pulled, tears spilling from dirt covered eyes, until her hand broke through to the world above. She kicked her legs, the muscles already tired and heavy, and shoved her way up and out. Gulping in air, her throat burned and her vision blurred. It was cold and dark and her ears were plugged, but vaguely, distantly, she heard a cawing crow. With leaden arms, she dug her fingers into the hard earth and pulled the rest of her body out of the hole that was her grave.

Rolling onto her back, she pressed a shaky hand down against her chest, searching desperately. _There_. Pumping steadily, a little too quick, was her heart. She let out a sigh of relief that turned into a laugh. A broken, hysterical giggle that shook her whole body until her abdomen physically _ached_. And then the tears came, sliding down dirt streaked cheeks. Her hair was clumped with it, her clothes were stained and stiff, and her body was _exhausted_.

But it was alive.

 _She was alive!_

* * *

They had buried Bonnie in the woods. No casket or headstone or anything. Just a deep dark hole in the ground. She couldn't remember how or when or why this had happened, but the pit in her stomach spoke of inevitabilities.

She dragged herself out of the woods on legs that could barely move. Sometimes her knees locked, forcing her to stumble and fall, but she got right back up. Because she was back. She was breathing air and her heart was beating and she would _not_ lay down and let Death take her again.

So she kept walking, pushing past gnarled tree branches, climbing over whatever laid in her path, until finally, she saw lights. Civilization. _Life_. So she kept going, kept moving, on legs that screamed for her to stop, to rest, to just give them a second to adjust. But she couldn't. She _wouldn't_. If she stopped, if she rested, she might not get up. And she couldn't risk it.

The lights led her to the boarding house, and that sent another choked noise from her throat, half laugh and half sob. She walked right up the manicured back lawn to the double doors that lead out onto a patio. She didn't want to say the light was left on for her, ready to guide her back, but some little part of her thought it was. _Hoped_ it was.

 _Was it Damon?_ she wondered. Was he the one that brought her back? Or maybe it was Caroline, unable to handle yet another loss. Or Elena. She could have done it, too. Unwilling to face a future without best friend Bonnie there. Or Enzo… Enzo who called her the love of his life. But they would have been there, wouldn't they? They would have crowded around her unmarked grave, dug her up so she wouldn't have to do it herself, and welcomed her home.

Bonnie pressed her palm to the back door, leaving a grimy handprint on the pristine glass, and then pulled her hand back. Her fingers hurt too much to bend them into a fist. Everything hurts. And distantly, she couldn't help but think about how nice it would be to sink into a hot bath and let it warm her from the outside in. She'd have to shower first, just to get the dirt off. But then she was going to sink down into Damon's bathtub and not move an inch until the bubbles faded, and then she was going to fill it again, as hot as she could take it, and she wouldn't get out until every inch of her was a wrinkled prune.

Bonnie drew her hand back and slapped it back down on the glass, over and over and over.

Until a light turned on in the kitchen and she could hear Caroline's irritated voice. "I don't know who you think you are, coming to the _back door_ of my house at three in the morning, but if you wake my kids up with all of this noise, I will—"

The door swung open and Caroline went from angry to shocked in a flat second. Her eyes widened and her brows hiked, and then a shaky noise fell from her lips. "Bonnie?" she whispered, blinking back tears as she shook her head. " _Bonnie!_ " She threw her arms around Bonnie, pulling and squeezing and grabbing up handfuls of Bonnie's smaller body, as if to make sure she was real and solid and _there_.

Bonnie crumbled. The exhaustion that had been creeping up on her finally wrapped its heavy cloak around her whole frame. Her knees give out and she collapsed. Bonnie wrapped brittle, shaking arms around Caroline when she caught her.

"It's okay, it's okay. I've got you." Caroline nodded, her soft cheek rubbing against Bonnie's, dirt flaking off in the process.

Caroline brought her inside, nudged the door closed with her foot, and carried Bonnie to the kitchen table, helping her sit down. "Here, God, you're freezing." Caroline pulled her own robe off and wrapped it around Bonnie's shoulders. It was thin and satin, but it was something. She rubbed her hands up and down Bonnie's arms, and then moved to the fireplace to get a fire going.

Bonnie leaned against the chair and slumped a little, letting her shoulders fall and her body relax. Her muscles still felt too tight, coiled up and stiff. She didn't want to think about why. She just focused on her breathing and the warmth sinking into her skin. She listened to Caroline prattle on about how it's a good thing they have wood, because it was late spring, nearly summer, and they don't usually light the fire this time of year. She was a nervous talker, always had been; it was a strange comfort.

Bonnie's gaze bounced away from her and wandered the kitchen. It was familiar in a lot of ways, but there were picture frames spread out all over now. Of Caroline and Stefan and the girls. The girls who were just four years old last Bonnie remembered, but they looked older now. A sinking feeling flooded her and she wondered just how long it'd been. How long was she stuck down there, rotting away?

She stared at a family picture until her eyes burned. Stefan and Caroline sitting side by side, shoulders pressed together, smiling for the camera, and between them were the girls, with their wide smiles, missing a tooth here or there. The girls each had an elbow on a big orange pumpkin, scarves wrapped around their necks, and fingerless wool gloves on their hands. A tall tree stood behind them, dressed in orange and red leaves. _Autumn_. It was winter the last Bonnie remembered, and it was spring now. So it had to be a year or two, at least.

A mug of hot tea was placed in front of her, and Bonnie blinked back to the present. She turned her head to see Caroline sitting in front of her, smiling at her sadly.

"Hey…" Caroline's voice was a little thick and unsure.

Bonnie reached for the mug and had to lift it with both hands, clutching it close to her chest as she sipped at the tea and let the heat of the mug sink back into her. It took her a few seconds before she could muster her voice. "How… How long?"

Caroline blinked a few times and dropped her gaze to the tabletop.

"Caroline… _Please?_ "

She nodded and lifted her eyes to meet Bonnie's. "We passed the three-year mark in December… It's May now."

Bonnie sucked in a sharp breath. "Could be longer, I guess… Could be three decades."

Caroline's arm stretched across the table toward her. "I'm glad it isn't." She stared at her searchingly. "But… _how?_ "

"I don't know. I was hoping you might be able to tell me. I don't… I don't remember much. It was winter when I died… Wasn't it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just before Christmas. It… It happened so fast. Your heart just… It gave up." She blinked back tears and bit down hard on her lip. "We tried _everything_. When blood didn't work, we took you to the hospital. When they said you were gone, we… We tried magic. We looked everywhere, for months, but… Everybody we talked to said there was nothing we could do."

Bonnie nodded, but her head was fuzzy, radio static growing in her ears. "I… I'm tired."

"Of course." Caroline nodded. "You probably want to shower, too."

She looked down at herself, caked in mud and dirt. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Are you kidding? I…" Swallowing tightly, Caroline shook her head. "I missed you, Bonnie. I don't know how this happened, or why, but I'm so glad it did."

Bonnie's mouth hitched up faintly. "Me too."

"Come on… I'll help you upstairs and then I'll get you something to wear." She circled the table and helped Bonnie stand on wobbly legs, banding an arm around her waist to keep her steady. "Close your eyes so you don't get dizzy," she warned.

Bonnie let her eyes fall closed, her skin turning icy cold as darkness enveloped her abruptly. It was too much, too soon, and fear crept up her throat.

But then Caroline said, "Okay," and Bonnie's panic ebbed.

She reopened her eyes to a familiar room. Or it was once. Now it looked different. Bare and empty where it wasn't before. The furniture was the same, but even from where she stood, Bonnie could see the layer of dust that covered each surface.

"We don't really come in here. The girls know to leave it alone, so it hasn't been touched in a while. I can clean it up tomorrow. Just some dusting and reorganizing. You can borrow my clothes until I can get your stuff out of storage."

"You kept it?" Bonnie's brows furrowed.

"We didn't want to give up hope… Even if it seemed hopeless." Caroline helped her into the bathroom and lowered her down to the closed lid of the toilet. "I'll grab some towels, okay? I'll be right back." She started for the door and then paused. "Maybe start with a shower, if your legs can take it. And then a bath, if you want."

Bonnie smiled at the wrinkle in Caroline's nose, like she was trying not to be mean, but was clearly sending a message about just how dirty Bonnie was.

With a faint laugh, Bonnie nodded. "Okay."

After Caroline left, Bonnie took a moment. Her legs were still weak, but the shower looked so inviting. Reaching behind her, she felt around for the zipper of her dress and tried to pull it down. It got stuck more than a few times, but she got it down enough to peel the stiff fabric off herself. She had to stand to get it off completely, following it with her underwear and bra. They collected in a dirty heap on the floor, one she desperately wanted to set on fire.

She walked slowly into the shower, and turned the water up as hot as it would go. It hurt at first, pin pricks against her skin, too much heat on too much cold. But she weathered through it. Tipping her head back, she let the water beat down on her, steam filling the glass enclosure all around. She scrubbed the dirt from her skin and her hair. It was _everywhere_. She scrubbed and scrubbed, clawing at her skin until every speck of dirt was gone, and then she kept rubbing, until her brown skin was raw and red.

"Hey, hey, _stop_ … Bonnie!" The door swung open and then Caroline was there, getting soaked in the shower water as she wrapped her arms around Bonnie. "You'll hurt yourself."

Bonnie opened her mouth to say… _what?_ That she didn't care? That at least that way she'd feel something other than the biting cold and the pressure of dirt all around her? Instead, her voice cracked on a sob.

Caroline's face fell. She hugged Bonnie a little tighter and whispered against her ear, over and over, "You're okay. You're here. You're _alive_ …"

Bonnie's breathing leveled out and she slumped against Caroline, the fight leeching out of her. _For now_.

Caroline held on a little while longer, and then she helped stand them both up. She reached an arm back to turn the water off and helped Bonnie out of the shower. Wrapping her up in a thick, fluffy towel, she took another to her face. Panic hit Bonnie as cotton covered her eyes while Caroline dried Bonnie's face for her. She was quick and gentle though, dropping the towel before the panic could swamp Bonnie.

"Okay?" Caroline stared down at her worriedly, like Bonnie was a broken bird she needed to nurse back to health.

"Yeah." Her voice was croaky; her throat felt a little shredded from crying and she found herself missing the tea from earlier.

"I made the bed. Clean sheets and an extra blanket."

Bonnie nodded jerkily.

"I got you some pajamas, too." She pointed to a stack of clothes on the sink counter.

Bonnie looked past them, to the floor in front of the toilet. Her clothes weren't there anymore. Even the dirt they'd left behind had been cleaned up. Leave it to Caroline to be so on the ball when things seemed so out of control.

"Okay… I'll be right out here if you need me." Caroline skittered back into the bedroom, silently waiting and listening.

Bonnie shuffled over to the stack of clothes. She peeled her towel off and rubbed it over her body. Her arms and legs were still too heavy and tired, and her skin felt a little too raw, but she methodically dried herself off. The pajamas Caroline grabbed for her were soft and light and Bonnie felt a little better when she was finally dressed.

She dropped her bunched up towel in a laundry basket in the corner and then walked into the bedroom.

Caroline was fluffing the pillows nervously. "So, if it's okay with you, I thought I'd stay. Just for tonight."

Relief swelled up inside Bonnie's chest, and she nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

Caroline smiled, and then pulled back the covers.

Taking her cue, Bonnie crossed the room and climbed into bed. She was slow to lay down, every ache thrumming for attention. But she eased her legs under the blanket and pulled it up to her chin.

Caroline bustled around the room, turning off the lights in the bathroom and then walking around the bedroom to make sure everything was in place. Finally, she moved to the opposite side of the bed and climbed in. The lamp on Caroline's side of the bed was the only light still on, and when she reached for it, Bonnie made a noise.

"Can… Can we keep it on?"

Caroline looked back at her, paused for only a beat, and then nodded. She sunk down into the bed and rolled over onto her side, to face her. "Do you feel a little better? Warmer at least?"

Bonnie nodded.

"I'll bring your clothes here in the morning. I'll probably need to wash them first. They've been in storage for a while. And we'll have to replace some of it. Fashion's changed. But we'll keep what we can. When you're feeling up to it, we can go shopping, pick up some new things. I can bring a TV in here, too. We never use the one in the den because the girls like the family room better. That way you have something to watch while you're resting. Or I could bring you books, if you want. As soon as the girls know you're here, they'll bug you all the time. They love being read to, even now. Their favorites are…"

Bonnie listened to Caroline's voice chatter away about nothing in particular and found it soothing. It lulled her into a sense of comfort, enough that when her eyes started to droop, she wasn't immediately scared she might never open them again. Especially when Caroline reached out and took her hand.

"You'll be okay now, Bonnie… _I promise_."

And it was silly, because nobody could really promise that, not after everything they'd seen and done and gone through. But in that moment, Bonnie believed her.

* * *

Morning sunlight broke through a window and crawled up the bed, lighting the side of Bonnie's face. It was warm and nice. She blinked awake slowly, and found the space beside her empty, the bed sheets a little rumpled. Slowly, she turned over onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

She could hear voices, faintly, somewhere in the hallway, but she couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying.

But then they came closer.

"—best friend. I _know_ her."

"I just want you to be careful, that's all. We need answers before we get too carried away here."

"What answers? Bonnie is _alive_. That's all I need to know."

"Caroline—"

" _Stefan_ … I'm not going to lose her. Not again."

He sighed.

The door pushed open then, and Caroline swept inside. "Hey! You're awake!"

Bonnie smiled faintly. "Just now. What time is it?"

"Almost eleven. You were pretty tired." She crossed the room toward the closet, and pulled the door open, revealing just how empty it was. "Stefan went to get your things. He's going to bring the clothes up now, if you're okay with that. I was thinking we could go through them, throw out what you don't need. Don't worry, you can stay in bed while I sort."

Bonnie's smile widened, amused. "Why do I feel like you've wanted to do this before?"

Caroline shrugged. "I love you, you know that, but your fashion sense…? It could use some work."

"Hey! I've had other things on my mind."

"Exactly, which is why you got a pass. But _now_ … You get to start over. Whole new fresh start. So it's out with the old and in with the new."

A throat cleared at the door then, and they both turned. Stefan half-smiled as he stepped inside, carrying two boxes, stacked on top of each other. Caroline walked over to meet him, taking the box off the top. "There's three more coming, and that's just the clothes." He looked to Bonnie as he dropped the other box off with Caroline. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to do about the furniture…"

Bonnie's heart stuttered. "My house…?"

Caroline and Stefan exchanged a look. "Still there. Just… We moved everything out. At first, Elena thought about staying there, but then things changed and, well... We couldn't sell it though. It didn't feel right."

"But keeping it like it was felt like a mausoleum…" Bonnie nodded knowingly. "That's fine."

"Anyway, I thought you could stay here while you're getting used to things." Caroline brightened hopefully. "Later, when you're up to it, we'll help you move back in. Get everything settled."

"Sure, that sounds fine."

"I'm gonna go grab the rest of your clothes." Stefan waved a thumb back over his shoulder and backed up to the door.

"Stefan…" Bonnie stared at him. "I'm sorry… Showing up like this, out of the blue, after everything…"

His face softened. "I don't think I've said it yet, but… I'm glad you're back, Bonnie. It's going to be an adjustment. Things are different. I'm sure you are, too. But… I'm glad you're home."

She swallowed the lump building in her throat and nodded. "Yeah. Me too."

With that, he turned and walked away, and Bonnie returned her attention to Caroline.

"He's worried, isn't he? About why this happened and… What I am."

"You're _you_." Caroline's voice was strong and steady, no sign of fear or uncertainty. "You always have been. No matter what life throws at you."

"And Death? Looks like it's been throwing a few curve balls, too."

"If anyone can kick Death's ass, it's you. You've done it before. Why should any of us be surprised you have again?"

Bonnie's gaze fell to her lap. "I didn't do this, Care… I don't know what or who did, but it wasn't me."

"Well, so what?" Walking to the bed, she threw her self down to sit next to her, pressing her shoulder in tight against Bonnie's. "All that matters is that you're here, and you're not going anywhere."

"Fingers crossed," she murmured.

"Come on." Caroline hopped back up. "Let's forget all the doom and gloom and do something fun!" She walked over to the boxes and popped one open.

"If by fun you mean listening to you roast every fashion choice I've ever made… _sure_."

Caroline grinned. "Speaking of fashion faux pas… What is _this?_ " She pulled a fuzzy green sweater up from the depths of the box and made a face.

Bonnie laughed, and for a moment, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

Never mind the unanswered questions or the ghosts living in shadows of a mostly empty room. She was alive and she had her best friend with her. For now, that was enough.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Over the next few days, Bonnie found herself napping more than she ever had before. Caroline would often lay beside her until she fell asleep, rubbing her back when she startled awake from a nightmare. It was clear that some part of Bonnie wasn't ready to settle back into life as it had been. Her mind couldn't get past the cold hard fact that she was dead. For three long years, she laid in the ground, unseen and unheard, with no heartbeat and no air in her lungs. That fact brought with it questions that she didn't have answers for.

"Maybe I'm a zombie." Bonnie sat at the kitchen table, dressed in pajamas, wearing a thick, terrycloth robe, stirring a bowl of oatmeal.

Stefan choked on his morning coffee.

"Don't be silly." Caroline was making the girls' lunches for school, packing away sandwiches and baggies of carrots. Yesterday, Stefan and Josie had worked side by side to make ants on a log together. Stefan would slather the celery sticks with peanut butter and Josie would carefully add three raisins to each. It was all so _normal_ and _domesticated_ that Bonnie sometimes wondered if she was dreaming. An outsider looking in on an alternate universe, where things went _right_ instead of sideways. At least for them.

So far as Bonnie could tell, Stefan and Caroline had settled into a happy life with the kids, where Caroline was on the PTA and Stefan coached the girls' soccer team. They traded off nights they read stories to the girls as they put them to bed. Stefan had mastered the art of French braids. Caroline hosted a homework club on Sundays for the girls and their friends. It was all suspiciously perfect.

"You're not a zombie. You're just… _lucky_." Caroline shrugged. She dusted her hands off and then searched the counter for something, a little knot between her brows.

Stefan opened the fridge door, grabbed out two water bottles, and then whistled as he passed them over.

Caroline brightened and took them from his outstretched hands.

"I don't know if I'd call this 'lucky.' I feel like roadkill."

"You just need some time to readjust." Caroline's smile was unrelentingly sunny.

"It's been three days and I still feel like I need a nap every couple of hours."

"Have you thought about what I said?" Caroline peeked up at her. "Just a little bit. Enough to help. To—"

" _No_." Bonnie shook her head. "Look, we don't know what happened. But I do know that if I drink your blood and I suddenly collapse again, I'll come back, but not the way I want."

"Would it really be so _bad?_ " Caroline stared at her searchingly. "I mean, it's not ideal, _obviously_. But neither is being dead."

Bonnie sighed, and rubbed her fingers over her forehead.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and relief flooded her. With the arrival of the girls, this whole conversation could be curbed. For a little while, at least.

The kitchen door swung open. Josie and Lizzie came running into the room, all hair and smiles.

"Mom! We have to go! We're gonna be late."

"Okay, okay. I'm almost ready. I've got your lunches and your water bottles. I packed an extra First Aid kit in your bags, just in case. I know Miss Jeanette says they have their own, and an on-site nurse, but you never know what's going to happen."

The girls grinned at each other, like they were more than used to Caroline's brand of neurotic mother. They accepted their bags as they were handed to them and then hurried to the door, waving excitedly at Bonnie before they went.

"Okay." Caroline breathed out a sigh. "I'll be back soon."

"Take your time," Bonnie said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Caroline winced, but quickly covered it with a cheery smile. She turned to Stefan to give him a kiss goodbye, pressing her forehead to his for a brief moment, and then made her way to the door.

Bonnie listened to Caroline's footsteps as she left, and the heavy sound of the front door closing behind her. Still, she waited a few minutes to be sure Caroline was out of hearing before she turned her sights on Stefan.

"Do I really need to ask?"

Stefan, who had taken to cleaning up the counter after Hurricane Caroline, glanced up at her, and then quickly put his gaze elsewhere. "It's complicated."

"Do you know where he is?"

He pursed his lips. "He calls sometimes. To check in."

She nodded, and tapped her fingers along her mug. "And Elena? Caroline keeps avoiding her…"

He paused, and then, "She woke up."

"Okay…" She stared at him, her brows hiked. "I assume the reunion went okay…?"

Stefan rung out a cloth to run over the counter and shook his head. "When we lost you, it all happened so fast… We were bribing someone at the morgue to keep you there for a while, just to give us time to make a plan. We… We forgot."

"Forgot?"

"About Elena. We forgot that she would be waking up because you were…" He shook his head. "Anyway, by the time she got back to town, she walked into chaos. Damon was running down leads on resurrection magic. Enzo was drowning himself at the bottom of a bottle. Caroline was caught somewhere between planning your welcome back party and your funeral. It was… _hard_."

She nodded, a short jerky move, and dropped her eyes to the table top. "So what happened?"

He took a deep breath and planted his hands on the counter, staring at her. "We spent weeks looking for a way to change things. To break the sleeping curse on Elena and wake you up. Damon was in and out. Felt like he was chasing down every coven in every city. Didn't matter where he went, nobody had an answer he liked. According to the doctors, you died from a sudden heart attack. Too much stress. It just gave up. Just like that."

She swallowed tightly.

"Most of the witches we tracked down wouldn't change something that wasn't magical. It went against nature. And the ones that would consider it… The price was too high. For them, for us, for everyone."

"Everyone," she repeated, barely a whisper.

"Damon wanted to do it at first. He did. He—He wouldn't take no for an answer. But…"

"But?" She looked up, and steeled her expression. _Elena_. If they couldn't break the curse, then Elena would go away. It made sense.

But that wasn't what Stefan said. "In order to bring you back, somebody else had to die. _Multiple_ people. And he was okay with that, until we reminded him that you wouldn't be. And then things… _changed_. He lost hope. He realized that he was stuck in a catch-22. Bring you back and know that you would never be okay with how he did it, or let you be at peace."

"Was I at peace?" She looked up at him. "I can't remember."

"There was no right answer here, Bonnie. We wanted you back, but we wanted to do it right. So many people have died because we've played with their lives. You're been the loudest voice against that. We just wanted to do things right for once."

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. If Caroline died, would Stefan burn the world down to get her back? If it was Elena, would they have tried harder? Screw the consequences and make it happen. She shoved those questions aside, however. Maybe it wasn't the time to start throwing out blame, especially when she was essentially relying on his hospitality while she… _recovered_.

"Where is he now?"

"Last I heard, headed to New York. He tried to stick around at first, but things were just too…"

"Complicated." She smiled blandly. "Yeah. I'm seeing a pattern there."

"Elena's in DC. Caroline called her to make sure she was still awake after you came back. You'll be happy to know that she's fine." He sighed. "She stuck around here for a while after you died, but the grief was too much, I think. And with Damon going off the rails, she decided a fresh start was needed."

"And Enzo?"

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know. He left one night, haven't seen him since."

Bonnie nodded. She let out a choked laugh then and looked up at him. "Guess I know what Damon felt like when he woke up, huh?"

"He went into that box willingly. I still don't agree with his choices back then." He crossed his arms over his chest. "This wasn't your choice, Bonnie. I know it's going to take some time to readjust, but… Maybe this is good. A second chance."

"To do what?" Her brow furrowed. "I thought I was doing things right the last time. I always do. Every day of my life, all I've tried to do is what's right for everyone else."

"So maybe you start living for _you_ now." He half-smiled. "We're here for you, for as long as you need. If you want to stay here, the room's yours. If you want to move back into your house, tell me when, I'll make it happen."

She hummed, and rubbed her hands over her face, pushing her hair back. "I don't know what I want. I… I'm tired, all the time. I'm confused and angry and absolutely _terrified_ that I'm just going to die, all over again, with no warning."

"We can make an appointment, see a doctor, see how your heart's doing."

"Yeah. Okay." She nodded, and then frowned. "Can I ask…? Why no grave? Why the woods?"

Stefan grimaced. "We wanted to have a funeral. Damon didn't. He said if we did and you came back, the town would be suspicious. It'd be Jeremy's resurrection all over again. We tried to explain to him that the chances of you coming back were practically non-existent. We'd run out of options at that point. But he wouldn't hear it. He, uh… He took the body. We didn't know where he buried you and he wouldn't tell us. Needless to say, he and Caroline don't talk much."

She nodded, and stared down into her coffee mug for a few long seconds. Until finally, she asked, "New York?"

"That's where he was headed about three months ago. I couldn't guess where he is now." He stared at her searchingly, and pushed off the counter to come around and take a seat at the table. "I know things were rocky with you two. You were just starting to trust him again and he was… Well, he was _Damon_ about all of it. But… Bonnie, when you died, something just flickered off in him. I don't mean his humanity. I mean _him_. I'm not going to lie, Damon and I have had our differences. For most of our lives, we've been fighting against or for each other, and that doesn't make for the healthiest relationship. But he's my brother, and I love him. Which is why I'm telling you this… It isn't your job to save him or to bring him back to reignite whatever was lost in him when you died. I'm not putting that on you, because we both know you've done more for me and my family than I can ever repay you for. But I will say that he was a better, happier person with you in his life. And I think you were, too."

Bonnie didn't respond, she just met his heavy, knowing gaze, and let his words resonate with her.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Early Saturday morning, Lizzie and Josie snuck into Bonnie's (Damon's?) bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her.

Bonnie cracked one eye open and hummed a hello.

"Mommy said you died, but now you're here…" Josie's brow furrowed thoughtfully.

Lizzie nodded. "She said you were a witch, like we are, but you don't siphon."

"That's right." Bonnie turned over onto her side, tucking an arm under her head and atop the pillow, propping herself up a little to see them better.

"Did you use magic to come back?" Lizzie rolled to the side to fold her legs under her, mimicking Josie's position.

"No. At least I don't think so. I don't really know how I did it."

The girls stared at her a beat. And then Josie reached out and patted Bonnie's hand comfortingly. "Mommy was sad when you died. She cried for a really long time."

"Papa said you were her best friend."

It was somehow strange and not strange to hear Stefan referred to as 'papa.' He'd been in the girls lives since they were three. They were seven now. And though Alaric was still their father, after his unexpected death, Stefan had become an even more pivotal part of their lives.

"I was. _Am_. I am her best friend."

The girls linked hands then. "Josie is my best friend," Lizzie said. "And I'm hers."

"That's good. You're lucky you have each other."

"Are you gonna go away again? We think you should stay. Maybe if you do, Uncle Damon will come back, too. He's been gone for a really long time. Papa worries about him."

"Does he?"

"Uh-huh. Uncle Damon calls sometimes, but Papa says it's not enough." Her nose scrunched up. "Even Mommy's worried, and she doesn't like him very much."

Bonnie muffled a laugh. "She never really has."

"Do you think you will?" Josie wondered. "You can stay in this room. We can have sleepovers and me and Lizzie will show you how to play soccer."

"Well, with an offer like that…" Bonnie smiled. "I'll try my best. Okay?"

"Okay." They pushed off the bed then. "You should get up. Mommy's making waffles and then Papa is taking us to soccer. You can watch us play!" With an excited giggle, they ran out of the room, leaving Bonnie to ponder the visit, and to battle a sudden hankering for pancakes.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Two weeks after Bonnie returned to the living, she moved back into her own house. It wasn't that she felt unwanted at the boarding house, she didn't. But she didn't want to feel like the tired invalid she was starting to feel like. She needed to start _living_ again. So Stefan and Matt moved all of her furniture back into her house, or what little of it Caroline let them keep before she convinced Bonnie to update a good chunk of it. When it was all over, they ate pizza in the living room and reminisced over when things were normal. It was after nine when Stefan and Caroline carried a sleeping Lizzie and Josie out to their car to head home, and Bonnie was left to sit on her brand new couch with a beer in her lap and Matt Donovan in an arm chair across from her.

"You're staring."

His mouth hitched up at the corner. "Just can't believe it…" He shook his head. "Three years is a long time, Bon."

"Yeah." She leaned forward and flicked a finger at his temples. "You're starting to grey."

He laughed and ducked his head. "This job's stressful."

"I bet. You've got your hands full."

The supernatural hadn't completely left Mystic Falls. They still lurked around too many corners, coming out of the woodwork to cause havoc whenever they pleased. But, between Matt, Caroline, and Stefan, they tried to keep the town as safe as they could. Alaric had died two years back, a car accident of all things. Tyler visited, but not often. And Elena kept her distance, calling or Skyping with Caroline once a month, when her busy schedule allowed. What had once been a tight knit group of people felt scattered now, and Bonnie wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"Gotta admit, I usually hate seeing anything supernatural walk over that border, but it's good to have our resident witch back… I missed you."

She picked at the label on her beer with her thumb. "We were having a Christmas party. One of Caroline's big bashes. I remember the apple cinnamon cider was just a little too strong…" She closed her eyes to better remember the night.

Stefan and Caroline were laughing in a corner, pressed close together. Josie and Lizzie were playing board games with Alaric by the fire. Tyler was visiting; he and Matt were reminiscing across the room. Enzo and Damon were bickering about something, and Bonnie was there in the middle, amused and affectionate. Enzo's hand was in hers, she could smell his cologne, and Damon's shoulder pressed to her own, solid and supportive. And then her vision went dark around the edges and a sharp pain stretched through her chest.

"I knew something wasn't right. It felt like…" Like that arrow Kai shot her with in the cave, only higher up, center in her chest. "I dropped my glass, I remember that. And then… _nothing_."

"Damon caught you while you were falling. But you were…" His voice caught. "You were already gone."

"Yeah," she rasped.

"Caroline gave you her blood. She refused to believe you were gone. You wouldn't wake up, so we called an ambulance. But there was nothing…"

She nodded. "After that, the next thing I know, I'm in the ground, digging my way out. I… I know that for you guys it's been years, but for me…"

Matt reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "Maybe it was Kai."

Her brow furrowed. "How?"

"Maybe it was some loophole in his spell, I don't know. But you died, Elena woke up, then you woke up, and she's still here… It's gotta mean something, right?"

"I don't know." She sighed, and slumped back against the couch. "It feels like yesterday when everything was just getting back to normal. And now it's all wrong."

"So we start over. Bon, you're _alive_. That's all that matters."

She blinked back a sheen of tears. "I feel _lost_. I'm trying so hard to find some kind of normal, but everything just feels _off_ somehow. Like maybe I'm not really supposed to be here…"

Matt put his beer aside and traded seats, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. "What do you need?"

She shook her head and pressed her face down against his shoulder. "Tell me it's going to be okay. Lie if you have to."

He squeezed her. "It's going to be okay… If I know one thing it's that you, Bonnie Bennett, are a survivor. You'll get through this."

She let out a shuddering sigh and hoped he was right.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

After a month, Bonnie had gotten into a routine. Saturdays were soccer practice, so she'd walk down to the park and watch the girls play. Stefan was a good coach. He had the kind of patience the kids needed. On Sundays, she helped Caroline host homework club and quickly found she remembered a lot more math than she ever thought. She picked up a job waiting tables at Mystic Grill on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. She had money left over from her father's and Grams' will, but she wanted to keep busy. Wednesdays she went out for wings and beer with Matt. Fridays she sat at the bar and drank bourbon, saving a seat for someone that never showed.

Elena visited her on a Sunday.

Bonnie was just walking out the door, carrying a bag full of snack mix for the kids, when she found Elena standing nervously on her porch.

"Elena…"

She whirled to meet her, eyes wide. "Bonnie." She laughed awkwardly, and then threw her arms wide and stepped forward to pull her into a hug. It lasted a few seconds before Elena pulled back and dabbed at her eyes, smiling to cover it. "Sorry, I… I told myself I wasn't going to cry."

"It's fine. Really. Uh, I heard you were in DC now."

"I am, yeah." She nodded. "Did I catch you at a bad time…?"

"Oh, I was just on my way to Caroline's. Homework club with the kids." She shrugged. "It's fine. It can wait."

"I should've called. As soon as I knew you were back, I should've taken the first flight out. I just… I felt bad."

Bonnie's brow wrinkled. "For what?"

"You were supposed to get sixty years. You only got six." Elena frowned. "When I woke up, I was… _relieved_. I thought, 'At least I didn't miss too much.' The world was just like when I left it. And then I remembered that you wouldn't get to see any of it. And I— I _hated_ myself for it. For being happy that I was here, I was back, and you weren't."

"Elena…"

"No. I need to say this." She reached for Bonnie's hands and held on tight. "All my life, you've always been there. Anytime I needed someone, anytime I needed a shoulder to cry on or a voice of reason to talk me down, you were there. Whenever I got in over my head and, let's face it, I did, a _lot_ , you always saved me, even when it cost you. And it did. So much. _Too_ much." She sighed. "I can never make up for that."

In a rare moment of complete honesty, Bonnie agreed. "No, you can't."

Elena nodded. "Look, I didn't come here because I wanted you to make me feel better about my part in all this. I came back because I owed you an apology, a huge one. I don't know if it was becoming a vampire that changed me, or if it was just who I always was, but I don't like a lot of the choices I made, the people that I sacrificed and hurt, and you're at the top of that list. I asked too much of you. We all did. I can't make up for it and I can't take it back, but I can take myself out of the equation."

Bonnie shook her head slowly. "I don't understand..."

"I'm staying in DC. I've made a good life for myself there. This will always be my home and you'll always be my friend, but I feel like if I come back here, if I stay, all I'm going to be doing is falling back into that same old cycle. And I don't want that. Not for me and definitely not for you."

Realization washed over Bonnie, and it was strangely cool and calm. "So, that's it then?"

"When you died, I came back thinking that somehow, we would all get through it. Caroline had Stefan and the girls. I had Damon. It wasn't that I didn't miss you. I just thought that was it. There couldn't possibly be anymore second chances. You wouldn't want us to let other people die to bring you back, and we'd already played God with nature too many times. So, I decided that if I couldn't bring you back, I'd just have to live my life in a way you would be proud of. And I think I am, now. But when we first lost you, everything was all wrong. Damon, he… He couldn't look at me. He couldn't touch me or be around me, and I knew it was because he blamed me. For him, if I wasn't back, then you'd be there."

She shook her head, her eyes bright with tears. "I lost him, Bon. The Damon I knew, the Damon I loved, he was just... _gone_. He threw himself into bringing you back, no matter what it cost, and I realized that meant me, too. And I get it, I do. Because you're his best friend, just like you're mine. But the one thing I could always expect from Damon was that I was first and foremost in his life. I know that's selfish and wrong, but it was what I wanted. And when he walked away, it was simultaneously the worst and best thing to ever happen to me. The worst because I loved him, maybe I always will. But the best because I… I was _free_. I was human again and I had my whole life ahead of me and every choice I made was my own. So I left. I packed my bags and I went to DC and I decided that I was going to be better. Happier. And I am."

Bonnie nodded. "I'm glad."

"Look, I'm not saying I'm perfect. I can still be selfish. But I know that this is the right thing to do. If I'm not here, then you never have to sacrifice yourself for me again. You have a real chance here to have the life you always wanted. I want that for you. I want you to have everything. You deserve it." She smiled then, and pulled Bonnie forward, wrapping her in a hug. "Will you promise me you'll try?"

Bonnie rested her chin on Elena's shoulder and let out a heavy sigh, the shackles of her past loosening just a little. "I will."

Elena breezed in and out of Bonnie's life just like that. She promised to write and call, but Bonnie knew it would be one of those things that she eventually stopped doing until she was gone completely. And while it hurt to know that the girl Bonnie had known since pre-school would not play a starring role in her life from that day forward, there was also something strangely freeing about it. She loved Elena, she really did, but there was a lot of truth in what she'd said. Her friend was selfish, and too often her life had taken precedence over everyone else, especially Bonnie.

With a new life ahead of her, however long or short it might be, Bonnie felt good about where it might be headed.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

It always occurred to Bonnie late at night, laying in a bed that felt too big and too empty, that while she missed Enzo, and she did, her mind wandered a whole lot more to her absent best friend than to her (former?) boyfriend. She'd loved Enzo. She still did. But some part of her had always been aware that eventually, it would end. Their lives were just too unstable for it to ever last. In the time they had been together, it'd been good. He'd been what she needed, and she hoped she was what he needed, too. But there was no denying that he'd entered her life in a time when she had a very noticeable Damon-shaped piece missing in it.

Enzo had, unfortunately, been shoved into his vacant position and asked to live up to an unlivable standard, but he'd made do. That wasn't to say that Enzo hadn't loved her, or that she didn't cherish every moment she had with him. But when Bonnie thought about true love, about the kind of love people wrote about, she wasn't sure that she and Enzo fit into that box. Theirs was a passionate, danger-filled three years that kept them on edge, but it was also steeped in loneliness and desperation. Enzo, trying to prove he was worth love, and Bonnie trying to find someone that wouldn't desert her. They had been what they needed at the time.

Three years and one resurrection later and while Bonnie laid in the center of her bed, her mind wandered less and less to her (former) flame and more and more to her (former?) best friend. Was he okay? Was he the same old Damon? Did she want him to be? Did he miss her? Would he be happy to have her back? Would he go on his merry way after they reunited or would he stay? Maybe without the guilt of Bonnie's death, he would seek out Elena again and give it a second (third? fourth? fifth?) try.

What little she could get from Stefan left her feeling like there were parts of the story she was missing. Damon was different. Adrift. Weighed down by Bonnie's loss, but better for not making the selfish choice. He still had his humanity on, so far as Stefan could tell, but something inside him had dimmed. He hadn't chased after Elena after she made her move, but instead let her go willingly. He'd fought tooth and nail not to give up on Bonnie, but buried her in an unmarked hole in the middle of the forest. Was he still searching for that magical cure to all that ailed her? Was he out there right now, bargaining with any witch who would hear him, over a way to bring back Bonnie Bennett without any casualties? Or had he drowned out any memory of her in a never-empty bottle of bourbon and a smorgasbord of blood and women?

A part of her wanted him to hurt. To feel the loss and rage that she felt when he left her a Dear John letter and climbed into a wooden box. She wanted him to know that hollowness that had crowded in around her when her best friend abandoned her and she was left to clean up his mess and go on the run to keep from opening a veritable Pandora's Box. But death and a 60-year nap were two very different things. While she'd known she would never see him, some part of her hoped he would wake up and change his mind, and that option, dim as it seemed, was there, at least. So far as Damon knew, Bonnie was dead, and there was no way to change it. Except there was.

Whatever had happened, whoever had done it, she was back, and she had no idea who to thank, or how long it might last. But with that kind of pressure on her shoulders, every day felt like borrowed time. It was a gift in some ways. She got to see her friends again, to see the family that Caroline and Stefan made with the girls, to watch Matt grow into an amazing sheriff, to know that Elena was creating a life for herself in DC as a nurse, and to play aunty to two amazing and intelligent little girls. It was a blessing and a curse. Because every day she wondered, 'will this be my last day?' Until she knew who had brought her back, she had no idea how limited her time on earth was. Which was, perhaps, why she did it.

Three months after returning from the dead, she opened her dusty old grimoire. According to Caroline, "I had to wrestle it out of Damon's hands. I know he was trying to use it to bring you back, but honestly, I didn't trust him not to trade it to some crazy voodoo priestess for some half-baked resurrection spell. Your family deserve better than that." Better at hiding things than Damon, he'd never found it again after Caroline took custody of the book, and now it was returned to its rightful owner.

Tracking spells weren't difficult. Stefan had happily given up a little blood to use in finding out where his big brother had wandered off to. Bonnie knew the spell back to front without having to crack open the family grimoire. That wasn't the spell she wanted to use. Rather, she wanted to use a _summoning_ spell, but with a twist. She wanted Damon to come home. To hear her calling to him, wherever he might be, and drag his wandering feet back to the last place he wanted to be.

And so, surrounded by candles, with a bowl of sweet grass drizzled in Stefan's blood, Bonnie got to work.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _i know, i know. i'm working on the latest chapter to 'end of the world,' but i hit a road block, and so i decided to write something else to get my muse going. that clearly ballooned. on the bright side, this three-piece story is completely **finished**. i have part two and three done and waiting to be posted. yay. and it's gotten me more jazzed for 'end of the world' so hopefully i'll have the next chapter up this weekend! :D_

 _thank you all for reading! please, if you can, try to leave a review! also, if at all possible, consider dropping by my tumblr, clicking on that little blue button that says 'buy me a coffee,' and leaving a donation. i'm trying to save up money for a new computer since this one is on its way out and it would be a big help. no pressure. i still plan to write and update as often as i can. donations have no impact on whether or not a new chapter will be posted. it just helps me out a little bit._

 _thanks!  
_ **\- Lee | Fina**


	2. pull

**chapter** **rating** : mature/explicit  
 **warning(s)** : sexual content, gore (blood), mentions of suicide  
 **word count** : 11,773  
 **summary** : Three years ago, Bonnie Bennett died. After waking up in an unmarked grave, she returns to the land of the living with a whole lot of questions. Like how did she die? Who brought her back? Where is Damon? And how long until the cruel grip of Death comes for her again?

* * *

 _ **nine lives (and a tenth for good behavior)**_  
-2/3-

The day Bonnie Bennett died, a part of Damon did, too. He was pretty sure he'd buried it with her in an unmarked hole in the ground. It wasn't his conscience, that was alive and kicking his ass. It also sounded suspiciously like her on days when it was being particularly loud. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what part of him died, just that he felt dull in a way he never had before. There was an absence, a greying, a hole carved into him that wouldn't quite mend. And it stayed that way. Festering. Mocking him and his inability to do something that seemed so _simple_.

"You do not look so well, my friend."

Sierra Warez was comfortably into her fifties, with streaks of silver through her wavy black hair and brown skin that had long grown familiar with the sun. Her wide hips spoke lovingly of three children, and the lines around her eyes told tale of laughter and happiness. Lead witch of a Mexican coven he had spent the last four months chasing down, she was what might some call his last hope. Of course, he'd come across a few of those in the three years he'd been looking for a magical fix-it, and eventually another would come along. At least, if this one didn't pan out.

Damon raised his shot glass in hello, downed it, and then gave his head a shake. "So? What's the consensus?"

"I have brought your story to my coven. Spoke kindly of Bonnie, just as you did to me. I made certain they knew that she was a good person, despite who she might align herself with." She offered a friendly smirk, and Damon took the small dig in stride. "We have spent some time discussing options for you. A gift in and of itself, as we do not associate with vampires. You know this."

"I remember the riot act you read me the first time I tracked you down in Matamoros." He half-grinned and shook his head. "I told you back then, I'm not your average vampire…"

"No, you are not. Evidenced by the fact that you have been very careful about who you eat here…" Her brow knit curiously. "I have not found any victims, so either you are very good at hiding bodies, or you have not left any."

Damon stared at the half-empty bottle of tequila in front of him. "If this was two years ago, the streets would be swimming in blood. But that was before I got my head straight."

"Oh?" She took a seat beside him, reached for the bottle, and poured herself a shot. "And what leveled your head?"

He took a deep breath. "A brush with death… I got on the wrong side of a few other vampires and they wanted my head for it." He shrugged. "I wasn't completely against the idea. I'd been juggling the idea of a nose dive off the closest bell tower for a while. But then I realized, if I'm dead, there's nobody left to man the crusade."

"To bring back Bonnie, you mean?"

He nodded, spinning his shot glass around absently. "They all gave up. Every one of them."

"And that disappoints you?"

"Are you shrinking me here?" He raised an eyebrow.

Sierra smiled. "Habit of my job. A witch has to pay her bills, you know."

He hummed, and cast his gaze back to the spilled tequila spotting the table in front of him. "I can't count on both hands how many times Bonnie stepped in and saved our asses. Collectively, individually, we were always screwing up. And she just swept in and pushed herself to the limits to keep us from kicking the bucket. But when she gets stuck in a prison world or bites the bullet a few times, where are they? _Nowhere_. They run off to DC to play doctor, or polish their shiny new Sheriff's badge, or play house with the Shining twins. Where's the loyalty, huh? Where's the reciprocity?"

"But _you_ did not give up on her."

"No. No, I just spent three years chasing empty leads, letting her rot in the ground because I can't do the one thing that will bring her back." He swivelled on his stool to face her then. "Which is what you're going to say, right? That the only way to bring her back is to sacrifice someone else in her place."

Sierra stared at him, hazel eyes turning soft with pity. "Some things are written in stone; death is one of them. To lose a great love is nothing I would wish on anyone, but the balance must be kept. In order to give, we must first take. It is not always what we deserve, but it is the way of things."

"Yeah…" He blew out a heavy breath.

"If I may ask… You were willing to kill two years ago, you spoke of bloodshed then, so why not now?"

His face fell, haunted with the truth of things. "She'd never forgive me… She won't like hearing I hurt people, but if I killed them so she could live… She wouldn't want that."

"I see. She is a better person than most, I think."

"Yeah." He let out a scoffing, bitter laugh. "Even when it hurts her.

With a hum, Sierra reached out, placing a hand on Damon's shoulder in comfort. "I am sorry, truly. I know this is not what you came here to hear. But I must tell you, no one will find the answer you want. A loophole will only bring greater pain in the long run. In the end, you must either sacrifice another or let go of Bonnie. Eternal rest is no great agony, unless you are the one left behind."

"Story of my life," he muttered.

"You carry a tortured soul. Those grow heavier the longer you leave them unattended to." Sierra stood from her seat, took one last shot of his tequila, and then smiled at him. "I wish you well. Should you ever need an ear, I am sure you can find me."

He nodded. "Thanks. For trying."

She hesitated a moment, before sharing, "There have been too many who have leapt from bell towers. The fall has a way of showing us that there are ways to survive our pain."

"Trust me, I've spent three years trying to survive. It doesn't get easier."

"You said you would not kill to bring her back, that she would not forgive you for your transgressions… Ask yourself, how would she feel if you jumped?"

"She'd kick my ass. Definitely. But that's the catch, isn't it…? She's not here to stop me."

"Isn't she? It seems you carry her with you always. Otherwise you would not be here today."

"Dead weight gets heavy."

"You have been gifted with a great deal of time, Damon. With it, you will find your peace."

"Maybe." He turned on his stool and poured himself another shot. "But I really doubt it."

Sierra let out a quiet sigh, took the cue offered, and finally left.

Damon stared at the mirror across from him, behind the shelves of liquor bottles. Black stubble had overtaken the lower half of his face. His hair had grown long and lank, brushing the top of his collar. His eyes, once a vibrant blue, were dull and tired. Exhaustion, depression, and surrender swam all around him, drawing his shoulders down, and lining the hungry hollows of unfed cheeks. He needed blood and sleep and an answer to the question he kept asking that wouldn't leave him empty-handed once more. Two he could find easily enough, but the last grew more and more unlikely.

Wrapping a hand around the tequila bottle, he stood from the bar, and made his way to the door. The air outside was dry and hot. His skin felt paper thin and hunger gnawed at his nerves, demanding to be felt and sated. He stumbled off into the night in search of a victim and a dark alley.

Tomorrow, he would move on. Fall back into his ritual of chasing misery at the end of a bottle until the next whisper of a lead popped up, giving him just enough hope to roll out of his musty hotel bed, and go chasing miracles.

A woman crossed the street ahead of him. Brown hair, brown skin, and green eyes. His gut twisted up. He hurried to catch up to her, pasting on a smile somewhere between friendly and sinister. If anything, her familiarity to a certain witch just might save her life tonight, and him the guilt of failing Bonnie once more.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

The bathtub was full of blood. It lapped at the edges, slipping over to puddle on the floor when he moved. Sometimes he regretted the fact that he couldn't drown enough to truly die. He laid at the bottom of the tub, eyes open. It was too thick to see ahead of him, so his vision was clouded in dark red. Eventually, much like Stefan at the bottom of the lake, his lungs would fill with blood, his body would seize, and he would die. Only to wake back up and follow the same procedure, over and over again. The, _literal_ , blood bath fed him just as it killed him, creating a paradoxical loop that he might have appreciated more if it wouldn't just let him die in dramatic misery already.

Pushing up from the bottom of the tub, he laid his head back against the lip and let the blood drip down his face. Distantly, he could hear the monotonous ticking of a clock, mocking him. Three years. Soon it would be four and then five and so on and so forth. One day, he would look back and realize sixty years had gone by since she'd been there. Glaring up at him, demanding he try harder and be better and want more for himself. Sixty years that he was supposed to have with her, but instead would have to spend noticeably absent of her judgy little looks and voice and presence.

The bathroom door creaked open, and a man poked his head inside. A little pudgy around the middle, with thinning brown hair and bulbous blue eyes. "More blood?"

"No. This is fine."

"It's funny. You aren't the first person to ask me to fill a bath with blood to bathe in."

"I'm not bathing. I'm having an existential crisis. There's a difference."

"Right, right. Well, the other guy— I won't name names, confidentiality saves lives— anyway, he wanted his hot tub filled with blood. He said it was good for his skin, but I don't know. You learn not to ask questions though, right? Guy says he wants enough blood for a tub, you say 'as long as it isn't mine, _carnal_ , I got no business judging you.'"

Damon ticked an eyebrow up. "You run blood for a lot of people?"

"People pay a lot of money for odd jobs. I take what I can get."

He hummed, and raised an arm out of the blood, watching it drip. It was beginning to thicken, which meant he'd have to wash it off soon, or it'd become more of a nuisance than anything. "You never worry you might be working for someone dangerous?"

The man shrugged. "You survive until you don't."

"Interesting philosophy."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your mantra, you know? What's your code for living?"

"My code?" Damon shook his head, and stared up at the shower head above. "I don't know. Hope is the only thing keeping me going most days."

"Doesn't sound like much of a life."

"Yeah, well, nobody asked you."

Damon pushed himself up to stand, blood dragging down his body. He toed the drain open and reached down to turn the hot water knob, letting the water beat down on him and wash away his blood and sins alike.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Sometimes, Damon felt like he was floating through life. Days or weeks would pass in a blur, unrecognizable. And then, abruptly, he would open his eyes to find himself somewhere he couldn't remember going. Not the trip there, or the reason behind it. Other days felt like a slow drag through a desert, his feet uncooperative and his mind a bog of unmotivated nothingness.

He was still in Mexico. He knew because the sweltering heat wouldn't let up. More than once, he thought about tracking Sierra down and just giving in. Who cared if Bonnie would be upset that he sacrificed a whole damn village to bring her back? At least she would be alive! She could wrestle with her moral compass later. But then her voice would sink into his brain, needling at him, telling him to find another way. Alive or not, Bonnie had left a mark on him, and it demanded that he be a better, kinder, more sympathetic person. Sadly, that fought constantly with his natural aptitude for being a giant asshole.

She wouldn't give up on him. He knew that. Bonnie would chase every whisper of a lead, move heaven and hell, cross prison worlds and destroy Other Sides. She would never lay down arms. Because she was strong and loyal and unable to let go of those she cared about. At least they had that last bit in common.

Three months after Sierra, Damon's latest bender included a shitty bar, a shittier hotel room, and too much tequila.

He was half-asleep, head resting atop a near-empty bottle of the cheapest tequila they had in stock. He swatted absently at a fly that kept buzzing around his ear and blew out a pained sigh. His back hurt from the hunched position he was in, leaning sideways against the bar, head pillowed on one arm, his other hand clutching at his bottle.

The bar tender didn't speak English, but Damon could tell from his amused tone that he thought Damon's spectacle wasn't new, but still somewhat funny. He'd made a pretty penny off of Damon the evening before, and the three before that, since Damon had wandered into town and taken a stool for his own. Drunk people never tasted good, but he took what he could get, chowing down on a few locals behind the bar, just enough to take the edge off before he stumbled off to his motel room to sleep away another day.

If Damon had to pin point the exact day that his life took a nose-dive, well, actually there were a few times that happened. Life pre-vampirism hadn't exactly been great, with an abusive, alcoholic father there to constantly remind him of what a failure he was. Katherine's death/betrayal also didn't mark a highlight in his life, especially when the subsequent one hundred plus years were littered with miserable pining over a woman who probably hadn't given him a second thought. The back and forth with Elena, despite the pain it caused his brother, was yet another blight on his history. Not to mention 1994, when he'd taken a literal bite out of the family tree. Which brought him to the present and the aching absence of anything bright or full or lively. Bonnie Bennett, a witch who had defied logic and death far too many times, only to spend her ninth on an abysmally accurate heart attack. If it told him anything, it was that the heart was an unreliable organ out to destroy him. And it had more than done its job.

He'd eaten a therapist once that told him his desperate search for love and acceptance was because he never felt like his father cared about him. That he felt abandoned and ignored for so long that a part of him was looking for someone to finally see him and love him for exactly who he was. At the same time, however, he'd been abandoned enough times that he expected it of everyone he cared about, so he had a tendency to sabotage his relationships in an effort to spare himself in the long run. She was a talker, and not completely wrong. Sometimes he regretted killing her, if only because he never heard her idea of what he might need to do to get over that particular baggage.

The bartender was talking at him again. Not quite to him, since he clearly believed Damon didn't know a word of what he was saying. And not _about_ him, since he was the only one in the fly-infested cesspool. But _at_ him, waving his arms in a way that clearly said it was time for Damon to move on.

With a sigh, Damon pushed off his stool, dropped a wad of money on the man, and dragged his feet out into the searing bright light of the sun. He blinked under its laser focus and held up his tequila bottle like it was supposed to shield his sensitive eyes. It did exactly _nothing_. Turning on his heel, he made his way toward the motel room with its scratchy blanket and moth-ball smelling pillow covers. The air conditioner only worked about thirty percent of the time, but the curtains would keep the sun out while he got some much needed sleep. It wasn't that he didn't have the cash to pay for something better so much as he was punishing himself. Damon was particularly good at that it would seem. The last three years were testament enough to his skill at destroying any and all chances at hope or happiness.

When he returned to the motel, he slammed the door shut and locked it before stripping off his shirt and flopping down on the bed. It squealed and shook under his weight, whining until it steadied once more. He blew out a tired sigh and closed his dry, itchy eyes, pressing his face down against an over-starched pillow case.

There was a sliver of sunlight coming in through a part in the curtains, but he merely turned his head away to avoid it. The ring on his finger promised him protection as he slept, but the reminder only brought back a less than flattering memory of when he'd sincerely considered how much easier things would be if he just chucked the ring and ended it already. Damon was an emotional masochist; he'd known that all his life. With each terrible mile marker, he felt just a little more justified in how jaded he was.

Elena was gone, leaving him and his miserable guilt for a new start elsewhere. Stefan was playing house with Caroline and the girls. Donovan was keeping the town safe as their stoic and mysterious sheriff. Lockwood had fucked off to play pack leader in California. Little Gilbert was hunting in Santa Fe last he checked. Alaric was dead. Bonnie was dead. And Damon felt like he might as well be, too.

It wasn't like he hadn't had a good run. He was 180+ years old. He'd lived, loved, and lost; rinse and repeat. He'd been the enemy and the ally; the obstacle and the solution; the villain and the hero. He'd grown and devolved and grown again. He'd pushed and pulled, died and survived, saved and surrendered. And after all his years, all he'd gained and learned, what did he have to show for it? A brother he rarely called. An ex-girlfriend he resented for simply _being_. Two dead best friends. And an ache in his chest that was distinctly Bonnie shaped.

If he closed his eyes, he could hear her voice in his ears, her pain and her anger as she told him how hurt she was, knowing she would never see him again. And he'd been so convinced that what he was doing was right. That without him in her life, she would live a good, long, incredible existence. Three years he spent in that box and when he came out, he was angry and disappointed and desperate to have her back. To save her. To make sure it wasn't all futile in the end. And then what? A year with her, barely, and she died of a heart attack. The old ticker just up and kicked it. No rhyme or reason, no changing it, no witchy little trick to change it. She was just _gone_. And it wasn't enough. It wasn't the sixty years he was promised, or the fifty-seven he had left after he screwed up. It was never going to be enough.

He was just falling asleep, his mind slipping away from him, when he felt it. A pull. Like a hook, just under his ribs, _tugging_ at him. _Come this way. Come along._ And the strangest part was just how _familiar_ it felt. His eyes shot open and he rolled over onto his back, pressing a hand to his chest and willing it to happen again. He waited, holding his breath, taking in every single inch of his body for some sign. A tingling sensation would do. Just give him a _sign_ —

 _There._

A pressure at his chest that felt like an invisible thread pulling at him, drawing him up and forward. A summons for him to be somewhere, and as soon as possible. Hope had long dimmed for him, even if it flared just a bit each time he got a line on some witch somewhere that might have enough sway to bring Bonnie back. But this… This was different. He knew Bonnie's magic. He'd felt it enough, more often in the form of debilitating aneurysms, to know exactly what it tasted like. But it was impossible, wasn't it? Wishful thinking at its finest.

That didn't stop him from grabbing up what little of what he owned, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his wrinkled shirt, and dragging his half-drunk ass out to his car. He peeled away from the motel and onto the road, all the while fumbling for his phone. He cursed when he found the battery was dead, and wrestled with it, one-armed, to get the charger hooked up and fed into his phone.

He was a long way from home, _from her_ , but as that pressure settled into his chest again, he never felt closer.

* * *

Stefan was parked outside of a community centre, waiting on the girls, when his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and turned the screen over. Frowning at the unfamiliar number, he thumbed the Answer button. "Hello?"

"Do you know where I am right now?"

He blinked at Damon's muffled voice. "I have no idea. I know _I_ am waiting to pick two seven year old's up from summer camp."

"Cute. What are the odds they made you cheap little friendship bracelets?"

"I've already got two." He smiled down at the beaded hemp bracelets circling his wrist. #1 COACH and #1 PAPA spelled out on each, respectively. "Where are you?"

"Mexico. Kind of. I'm nearly across the border."

"Oh? Where are you headed to next?"

"You tell me…" Damon paused. "I felt something."

"Something…?"

"A pull."

Stefan frowned, and settled back in his seat. "You wanna be more specific?"

"I know what Bonnie's magic feels like, Stefan. So, tell it to me straight… Is she there?"

He chewed on his lip and cast his gaze out the window. The girls were talking to one of the camp counselors, bouncing on the tips of their toes as they showed her something they'd made. Those girls were his life. Them and Caroline. Since Bonnie had come back, a part of Caroline had mended, sewn itself up, rejuvenated in a way it could never be without her best friend in her life. She missed Elena, and she talked to her as much as she could, but it wasn't the same. She knew Elena was alive and well. With Bonnie, she'd lost her. And now she had her back.

Stefan would be lying if he said he hadn't hoped, somehow, Bonnie might be able to piece Damon back together, too. But putting that burden on her shoulders was not something he wanted to do. She deserved to live a long and whole life, not be cleaning up their messes for the foreseeable future. Still, if Bonnie had sent for him, maybe it was her that wanted Damon back in her life.

"Stefan?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here."

Damon went quiet for a beat. And then, "Look, I won't lie. I've been a mess. I haven't been a good brother to you. I told you I'd be better and I wasn't. I left. I walked away when everyone was falling apart and I left you holding the bag. It was a shitty thing to do."

"You were grieving… It didn't help that Ric passed soon after."

"No, it didn't, but that's no excuse." He sighed. "I can't explain it. I can't… I don't know how to put it into words. I just… I felt like I couldn't function. Like some part of me was missing and I wasn't sure I'd ever find it again. Me and Bonnie, it… It wasn't supposed to end like that."

"Then how was it supposed to end?"

"I don't know. Maybe it wasn't…"

"Sixty years, Damon. That's how long we guessed before Bonnie was gone and Elena was back."

"Yeah, and she lasted four."

"The heart attack, it wasn't your fault…"

"Bullshit. It was all our faults. Every time we asked her to fix something, to push herself to her limits. We did that to her."

"Is that why you're still chasing pipe dreams? Still trying to bring her back?"

"She deserved better."

"Yeah. She did." Stefan licked his lips and stared down at his hand, settled atop the steering wheel. "What would you do different? If she was here, if she was alive again. What would you change?"

Damon didn't answer right away. All Stefan could hear was a buzzing through the phone. Enough that he thought maybe he'd lost him at some point. But then Damon cleared his throat. "I'd make it up to her."

"How?"

"What? You want a twelve-step plan to keeping Bonnie Bennett alive and well?"

"Do you have one?"

"So far I've got the first three."

"I'm listening."

"Step One: buy a remote island that nobody but a select few people can find or visit. Step Two: get her a bikini. I'm thinking cherry red, but she's always been partial to green… Step Three: quietly slip a little blood into everything she eats. Just to keep her in tip top shape, you know? Will she kill me? Probably. Will she be alive _to_ kill me? That's really all that matters…"

Stefan half-smiled as he shook his head. "I'm surprised you don't have 'dress her in bubble wrap' on there."

"Too bulky. She'd never go for it."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "She's accident prone, I'll give you that. But she's not fragile."

"All humans are fragile. She's just missing the stamp that warns people from being too rough with her."

"And you're the stamp?"

"I'm the consequence."

Stefan sighed. "When Bonnie died, you… You weren't you anymore. You were emptier. Darker. _Lost_."

"Is this gearing up for a lighthouse metaphor?"

"Should it?"

"Maybe."

Stefan huffed a laugh. "Look, all I'm saying is that Bonnie mattered to you in a way few people have. And I know you're scared that if you let that guard down again, if you care about someone like that again, you'll lose them, too. But you can't plan for everything. You can't know when or how someone's going to leave you. All you've got is the moment you're in, so you enjoy it as much as you possibly can."

"Fatherhood is making you sappy."

"She's alive, Damon. She dug herself up out of whatever makeshift grave you dug for her in the forest and she dragged herself back to the boarding house. She's been back for months now. She isn't… She's not the same. A little more guarded and sad, scared she's going to die again any second, but… She's alive. And by the sounds of it, she's wondering if you are, too."

A long, heavy pause followed before Damon said, "If this is just some fucked up way to get me home…"

"It's not. Bonnie's back. She's living in her old house. She watches the girls play soccer on Saturdays and helps Caroline with homework club on Sundays. She's here, Damon. So come home already."

"Yeah… _Yeah_. I'll be there soon. Just… Don't tell her I'm coming."

He frowned. "Why?"

"Just don't. I'll be back in two, maybe three days."

"All right. Drive safe. And Damon?"

"Yeah?"

"Think about what I said, all right?"

"I'll see what I can do, Brother. Say 'hi' to the nieces for me. I'll bring souvenirs… Kids like tequila, right? Seven's not _that_ young…"

Stefan rolled his eyes and hung up on Damon's cheerful, teasing laughter.

The door to the SUV swung open then and the girls climbed into the back, voices clamouring over each other to be the first to tell him about their day.

Stefan grinned, waiting as they got settled in their seats. He hummed and nodded encouragingly as he pulled away from the community centre and headed for home. Relief had settled in his chest. His brother was coming home, and for the first time in a long time, that left him feeling excited instead of nervous.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Bonnie wasn't sure if it worked or not. The spell only required she do it once and wait for results. She decided to give him a week before she tried again. In the meantime, she tried to keep busy. She wasn't sleeping well. Nightmares about death and dirt kept her up; she would startle awake, damp with sweat and reeking of fear. Most nights, she curled up on her couch, watching infomercials and drinking tea, slipping in and out of naps here or there.

She kept her work schedule up, went shopping with Caroline, visited with the girls, and listened to Stefan talk soccer stats in a way that was purely 'adoring dad.' She never asked if he heard from Damon. She never so much as spoke his name. She'd put her magic to work and whatever result came from it she would live with.

It did bother her sometimes that she went looking for Damon instead of Enzo. Was Enzo still mourning her or had he moved on? Was he neck deep in a bottle somewhere, replaying all of their greatest hits? Or had he come to the same conclusions she had? It wouldn't be hard to find him. She could use the same spell she had on Damon to summon Enzo back to Mystic Falls. She had some of his things still; they'd been tucked away in storage with her own. But, for whatever reason, she didn't. She told herself she would later, after, when she was more settled. At the very least, just to give him peace of mind on the whole thing. He was a vampire, he'd live a few lifetimes longer than she ever would, and she didn't want to be yet another tragic story he carried with him. But for now, her focus was on Damon, on seeing him, and knowing for sure that he was okay.

It wasn't like Damon couldn't survive without her. He'd done it before and he would have to again. But she felt a little off kilter without him there. Sure, they'd still been finding their way when she died, still trying to get past that feeling of abandonment that had swamped her when he chose a sixty-year sleep over her. But they'd been rebuilding that trust and friendship and, while she hadn't thought it was possible, she thought maybe that new foundation would be even more solid than the last. It felt that way, at least. Until a heart attack took her out of the picture. Now she wasn't sure what to expect, and that left her feeling weird about the whole thing.

Was it the right thing to do? She wasn't sure. But it was necessary. She needed to put it all to rest. She had no idea how long she had on earth, but she did know that she wanted to see him at least one more time before she went. And maybe that said everything.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

It took Damon a little over two days to get back to Mystic Falls. He looked and felt like shit, taking a bite out of a tourist here or there, sleeping in his car one night, and spending the other driving all the way through. He'd already been working on a pretty terrible beard that he hadn't shaved in too long, a lack of blood left him looking pale in a pasty way, and he'd been wearing the same clothes for who knew how long. Which was why he stopped at the boarding house first. The house was dark as he snuck his way upstairs to his former bedroom. After three years, most of his stuff was gone, tucked away in storage somewhere. But he had some clean clothes with him. All he really needed was a shower. He ducked into his bathroom to do just that and walked out feeling a hell of a lot better. He skipped shaving though, ready to just throw on his clothes and cross what little space was left between him and Bonnie Bennett.

He walked into his bedroom with his pants on and long-sleeved shirt clinging to damp skin while he rubbed a towel over his dripping hair.

A cleared throat had him dropping the towel and raising an eyebrow at Caroline, perched at the edge of his bed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Think you might have the wrong room, Carebear… Does Stefan know you're in here?"

"Hilarious." She rolled her eyes. "I know why you're here."

"I needed a shower. Desperately. You might want to burn the clothes I left in the hamper. They smell like tequila and bad choices."

She stared up at him. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Avoiding a conversation I don't want to have. Uh, yeah. I find I'm pretty good at it, actually. A lot of practice. You should know."

" _Damon_." She ticked an eyebrow up. "After Bonnie died, do you remember what you said?"

"I said a lot of things. You'll find a lot of it was just my own guilt leaking through. Why? Did I hurt your feelings?"

"You said that we were the reason Bonnie died. You blamed us for breaking her heart. That we asked too much of her, and that was why she had her heart attack. And if we'd only stayed away—"

" _Don't_." He gritted his teeth. "Don't put this back on me when you're out here, living your little fairy-tale ending. You don't get to tell me to leave when you get to see her whenever you want. Three years, Caroline. _Three. Years_. And I've spent every single day of it regretting my part in her death. Asking myself what I could've done differently. If I could've saved her. Wishing I hadn't wasted three years before that, sleeping in a pine box. So don't point your judgy little finger at me and tell me that I'm the only problem in this equation."

"You're not." She shook her head. "But are you a solution?"

He stared at her searchingly. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to admit what everybody else already knows…" She laughed humorlessly. "You're in love with her. I don't know when it happened, but you fell in love with her. And I'm sorry, Damon, but your track record with love is less than stellar."

He swallowed tightly and looked away from her. "Bonnie's different."

" _Why?_ "

"I don't have to explain myself to you." Tossing his towel away, he walked to the end of the bed, where his bag lay open, and dug out a fresh pair of socks. "It's no secret that you and I have had our differences, and I'm not going to pretend like there's not a good reason for that. I know you don't understand why Bonnie even wastes her time on me. Trust me, you're not the first person to think it. But she does. No matter what happens, she's my best friend. You of all people should know how hard it is not to have her around."

"Of course I do. I'm still not convinced something won't go wrong and take her back. But the difference between me and you is that I'm not _in love_ with her."

"So what if I am?" He threw his hands up and turned to stare at her head on. "Would that be so bad? I know my history with women falls a little more on the 'you will regret this' side of things, but I'm not the same guy I was when I got here. That version of me was a homicidal, humanity-less asshole. Now I'm a less violent asshole that is struggling under a bucket-load of emotional trauma."

He searched her eyes. "I love her. All right? Maybe it started in the prison world or maybe before or after, I don't _know_. What I do know is that I have searched the globe looking for a way to bring her back, and miracle of miracles, she brought _herself_ back. I've begged every witch and warlock I've ever met for some kind of way to make this right. I've buried myself in more bourbon and tequila than any liver should ever have to see. I've bargained with God and the Devil and everyone in between. I've chased the ghost of a woman who has saved my ass, time and time again, and who I am _desperately_ hoping will want me in her life, even it's just as a drinking buddy whenever she feels like squeezing me in. Because as much as I love her, I know that the chances of this actually ending with me getting the girl, who is _miles_ better than I deserve, is slim to none. So instead of reminding me that I'm not worth the air that Bonnie breathes, can you _please_ just let me see her one last time before I crawl back into a hole halfway across the world?"

Caroline stared at him a long, tense beat, and then she let out a sigh. "I swear to God, if you break her heart, I will bury you in the backyard and let Sprinkles pee on your grave."

"Who the hell is Sprinkles?"

"Our cat."

"Well, that's just _rude_ …"

Rolling her eyes, Caroline pivoted on her heel and walked to the door. "For the record, you aren't worth the air she breathes. But…" She looked back. "That wasn't the _worst_ speech. And if Bonnie decides to let you hang around, I'm sure Stefan would like to see you more, too."

A slow smirk crawled up Damon's face. "Why Caroline, is that an invitation to family dinner? Should I bring a salad?"

She glared at him. "Weren't you leaving?"

He grinned. "On my way now." He grabbed up his bag and whistled cheerfully as he passed her into the hallway. "Tell Little Brother I'll be by tomorrow to catch up. Maybe the kidlets can show me what they've learned in soccer practice."

"Uh-huh." She waved over her shoulder as she walked back to her room.

Feeling good, Damon made his way downstairs and out to his car. He loaded his bag in the backseat and climbed in, rubbing his hands together before he put his car in gear and took off for Bonnie's house. A nervous, but hopeful, feeling swelled in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

An infomercial for knives was playing on the TV screen when Bonnie startled awake at a noise just outside of her house. She rubbed her fists over her eyes and stretched her legs out as far as they would reach before pushing herself up to a seated position. She was contemplating refilling her cup of tea when she heard a rattling knock at the front door. A squint toward the clock on the mantle told her it was just after midnight, far too late for a visitor. Distantly, still half asleep, she wondered if maybe it was Caroline. She probably would have called ahead, but if something had happened… If the girls were hurt, or Stefan, or Matt, she might've just hurried ahead and skipped the phone call. That had Bonnie moving to the door much quicker, blinking and shaking her head as she tried to wake herself up a little more.

It wasn't until her hand was wrapped around the handle that she really took in the shape of the body on the other side of the door. She could see him through the frosted glass; while it made most of his features indistinguishable, she'd know that outline anywhere. Which was why, despite her efforts to get him there, she hesitated to turn the handle.

Damon sighed on the other side of the door, and a loud thump echoed as he dropped his forehead against it. "Bonnie…"

A shiver ran through her at the sound of his voice.

"Open the door… _Please?_ "

Her eyes were already burning as she finally coiled her fingers around the handle and turned it. The door swung open, and there he stood. Tall and dark and just as exhausted as she felt. For as long as Bonnie had known Damon, he cut a particular, effortless figure. That wasn't what she was seeing now. He looked, well, _haggard_. He hadn't shaved, his hair was much longer than he ever kept it, his skin seemed strangely pale, and his whole body just looked _slumped_. Like the weight of life had finally fell upon him and wouldn't be moved.

He reached for her first, his hands cupping her face so gently that her breath caught. Fingertips running over her cheeks and her eyebrows and around the curve of her mouth. And then he was laughing, thick and astounded, as if it was really hitting him that this was real, _she_ was real.

"Took your time, Bon-Bon. Was starting to think you'd never turn back up."

Her hands wrapped around his wrists, but she didn't pull them away, she just held on, pressing her face closer against fingers and palms. "I could say the same for you… I was expecting a welcome back party. Where's my streamers?"

He snorted a laugh and shook his head. "I'll make it up to you."

She stared up at him searchingly. "Where were you?"

"Nowhere. Everywhere. Take your pick."

"I'm not sure I like the beard." She reached up and scraped her fingers over the bristly, untamed whiskers he had growing. It wasn't quite a beard, but it was getting there.

"Shaving wasn't at the top of my list." He dropped his gaze to her hand, the tips of her fingers sliding higher up his cheek. "How long've you been back?"

She shrugged. "A few months."

He hummed and raised an eyebrow. "You only summoned me a couple days ago. Any reason why?"

"I don't know… I was readjusting, kind of. I figured you'd wander back here when you were ready. But I got impatient, so I thought I'd speed up the process."

He nodded faintly. "I knew it was you… Soon as I felt the pull, I knew that was your magic." He smiled, a little goofy, and Bonnie felt her own lips stretch in imitation.

"Three years is a long time to spend hunting down false leads…"

"Surprised I didn't give up?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

He stared down at her a long moment, looking serious once more. "Have you eaten?"

A laugh bubbled up in her throat. "Pancakes?"

"I'm _starving_ …" He turned them, and looped an arm around her shoulders. "You got any whip cream?"

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

" _Rude_."

Bonnie's face lightened. "I'm glad you came back."

"You kidding? I wouldn't be anywhere else."

* * *

Damon made them each a stack of pancakes, topped with whip cream faces. They stayed up until three in the morning, talking and eating. He shared stories of where he'd been, who he'd met or, more accurately, who he'd pissed off. Bonnie listened to each one, even when her eyes drooped and she started swaying tiredly in her seat.

Finally, he put their dishes in the sink and plucked her up off her chair, carrying her upstairs to her bedroom. He tucked her into her bed and flopped down next to her, legs outstretched and hands stacked on his stomach.

Bonnie hummed tiredly. "Can't sleep for long," she warned.

"Nightmares?"

She blinked up at him, and then tipped her chin down. "I'm back in that hole and I can't get out. I keep digging, but I run out of air. Sometimes I can't move. It's like I'm dead, but I know what's going on. I can feel how cold the dirt is, but I'm stuck there."

"There was a priestess in Pasadena. She said that if a witch dies, she should be buried in the earth without the pine box. That her magic will leech back into the ground. I don't know. I wasn't really thinking straight back then. I just… I thought you'd like that."

She stared at his profile a long moment. "Stefan said you didn't want to have a funeral."

He shrugged. "Figured it was easier to just tell people you were on vacation. That way, when I got you back, we wouldn't have to explain the whole resurrection angle."

"You were that sure?"

He turned to look down at her, his brows furrowed. "You'd do the same for me."

"Of course." She peered up at him. "But three years is a long time to hold out hope."

"For a vampire that's a drop in the bucket." He looked away. "Hey, I didn't know when or how, but I knew I'd get it done. What's Clyde without his Bonnie?"

"You tell me."

He paused, and frowned into the distance. "Lonely, mostly. And drunk, can't forget that." He reached for one of her hands and busied himself tracing her fingers. He could feel her body heat sinking into his side, hear her heartbeat strumming calmly. A little voice in his head was still worried it would stop. She'd grow cold and her heart would give and that would be it. There and gone again, just as soon as they let their guard down. "Made some questionable choices. Didn't have my Jiminy Cricket to talk me down."

"How many?" she wondered.

 _How many bodies did you leave in your wake?_

"More than you'd be happy with."

He slipped. Nameless faces piled up, the rage and the loss doubling up on him until he couldn't function right. So he hurt people, he killed them, and when it was over, he didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. He was supposed to be better than this. He'd _been_ better than this.

"The first year was the hardest. I kept getting leads and they kept falling apart. Elena gave up first. Then Stefan. Caroline didn't want to, but when Donovan threw in the towel, she started to think it was pointless too. So I stopped calling, stopped telling them about who I found or what I'd read in some sixth century grimoire that needed three translators to understand. And they moved on, lived their lives, _coped_."

"But you didn't."

He laughed, dark and humorless. "The one thing that always keeps me company is _regret_. I didn't see it coming. I didn't plan for it. I couldn't _fix_ it."

"It wasn't up to you to—"

" _Yes_. It was." He shook his head. "How many times did I come to you for a last minute plan? How many times did I tell you that you had to push yourself to your witchy limits just to get something _I_ wanted?"

"I was a willing participant in a lot of that. Elena needed help and I—"

"You were the one we sacrificed to get that help."

"That isn't fair."

"Isn't it?" He stared down at her. "How many people have you lost? How many times have you died? Or lost your magic? We used you up until your heart just couldn't take it anymore, and I'm just as guilty, maybe even _more_ guilty, than the rest."

"I'm my own person, Damon. I get to make those decisions, nobody else."

"But you shouldn't _have_ to. We shouldn't have _asked_ you to." He searched her face, stubborn and set. "You can be mad at me for saying it, but you need to hear me. Because if you don't, you'll go right back to doing the same old things, and you'll wind up right where you were. Six feet under. And I don't know if we're going to get another miracle to bring you back. Trust me when I say I exhausted every possible avenue and not one of them worked… I have no idea how you're here, but we can't ignore why you died in the first place."

Bonnie blew out a shaky sigh and turned herself over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I need to know _why_ … Why I'm back and how long I have."

"So, what do we do?"

"I ask the witches. They have to know what happened, who sent me back, why it's happening…"

"You sure you're up for that?"

"I don't know. I've been resting, avoiding magic when I can. The only time I used it was to summon you."

"Okay. Then we wait, give it a few more days, let you recharge, and then we'll send for the old bats, ask them what they know."

She snorted. "Maybe I should do the talking."

He grinned. "Witches love me."

"Mmhmm…" She raised an unconvinced eyebrow.

Damon shuffled down the bed to lay down properly. "Get some sleep. I'll stay with you. Keep the nightmares at bay."

She eyed him a moment, but eventually nodded. Pulling the covers up close, she snuggled her head against her pillow and let her eyes fall closed. She could smell his cologne, faint as it was, and feel his arm pressed to her own. It was nice; comforting and familiar. She felt herself drifting off, slipping into that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. And then she was gone.

Things went dark and cold, dirt crowding in all around her, so hard and unforgiving that every part of her was stiff and stuck. Her lungs seized up, no air to be found. Panic crawled through her body, burning her down to marrow. But just as she felt her heart struggling in her chest, it changed.

Bonnie's makeshift grave disappeared and instead, she found herself in the passenger seat of Damon's car. The top was back and the wind was blowing all around, kicking up her hair and racing across her skin.

He grinned at her from the driver's seat, and turned the volume of the radio up high, pressing down hard on the gas so they were speeding across the asphalt. And so she was free. Blue skies above and open road ahead. Just her and Damon and nothing else. She knew it was a dream in some distant part of her mind, but she let herself enjoy the moment anyway. She deserved it.

* * *

It was early afternoon before she woke up, more rested than she'd been in a while, and Damon was still right there beside her. He was flicking through the channels on the TV, brow furrowed.

"Did you know The Bodyguard isn't on Netflix? What kind of crap is that? It's a _classic!_ "

She smiled slowly.

"…arguably, Costner's best work. Was Field of Dreams pretty good? Sure. But it was no Bodyguard." His mouth screwed up irritably.

Bonnie would later ask herself what, exactly, about that moment had made her do it. Maybe it was the lighting or the situation or just overwhelming appreciation for the dream that had kept her light and content the whole night through. Or maybe it was just one of those inevitable things, destined to happen no matter what stood in its way. In any case, she leaned up and over while Damon was still mid-sentence, and she kissed him.

Her hand slid gently across his chest, resting atop an unbeating heart, tapping out a beat that would never be heard there again. The tip of her nose brushed against his own, and her eyes locked with his. Blue, bright, and just a little wider than usual, sharp and surprised. He watched as she pressed her lips down against his, and she wondered if he was just as scared as her that she might drift away, like smoke caught on a breeze, wisps of Bonnie Bennett, there and gone, nothing but a memory caught in clenched fingers.

She closed her eyes against it, sinking into their kiss and pushing back all the tumbling thoughts that crawled up for attention. It was tentative at first, each movement of her lips. Probing and careful, like she was worried that if she pushed too hard, too fast, something or someone might break.

His mouth opened under hers, and a trembling breath left him. And then he was cradling her lower lip between his, a hand cupping the nape of her neck, his skin a little cooler than she expected. It should've unnerved her. The cold was a bitter reminder of time lost, but it felt different. Maybe because it was him. Because as much as Damon had in common with death, he still reminded her too much of life.

She'd wondered before what kissing Damon might be like. Heady and passionate, like Noah and Allie and their rain kiss. Hands that couldn't quite settle in one place, too eager to be everywhere, pulling and pushing at each other, wanting more and more and more. But this wasn't like that. This was light and hopeful and sweet. It was almost innocent at first, like she was fourteen again and fumbling over where to put her hands. But then it found its rhythm.

Her fingers bunched in the fabric of his shirt, her other hand skimming over the coarse shadow that covered his cheek. Damon leaned into her, sliding an arm around her back, hand splayed wide, meeting her chest to chest. Her knee slid up, curling around his hip, heel dug into the back of his thigh. Their kisses picked up pace, slanting and meeting until she could feel how swollen her mouth was from the pressure of his and the scrape of his teeth.

The remote for her TV fell off the bed and clacked against the floor, but it was just white noise, just background. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, feel parts of her body that just never seemed to warm up finally feeling like they were there and hers and alive again.

They fell back against the bed with her flat on her back and him sliding between the bow of her hips. He pulled away from her mouth to press kisses down her cheek and to bury his face at the crook of her neck. She pulled at the bottom of his shirt, nearly tearing it as she dragged it up and over his head before she threw it away. He paused long enough to be rid of it and then ducked down to scrape his teeth over her collar bone.

Absently, she thought of Enzo and Elena. Of declarations of 'love' and 'forever' and expectations that were not this. But those damning thoughts were washed away by the overwhelming feeling of _rightness_. Of _home_. Of familiarity tinged with excitement.

Her clothes became barriers, shucked away quickly and efficiently, replaced with awed mouths and reverent hands. His palms stroked wide across her stomach, knuckles skimming over her ribs, before his fingers flared under the curve of her breasts, cupping them, thumbs circling her nipples. All the while, he mouthed kisses along her hipbones, tongue stroking the seam between hip and thigh. His skin was like marble, cool and smooth and flawless, bright against her own much darker, warmer body.

Dark hair tickled the insides of her thighs as he ducked down to lick a stripe up the seam of her pussy. She arched her hips up to feel it again, and he chuckled, his cheek pressed to her leg. He slid one hand down her body, fingertips dancing lightly on her skin. Stroking his palm up her leg, he readjusted it over his shoulder before sliding it back down to lay flat across her stomach, holding her still.

If there was an award for 'most impatient man alive,' Bonnie would gladly give it to Damon. And yet, there were some things he liked to take his time with. Eating her out was one of them.

Bonnie wasn't self conscious about her body. She had been, once. Compared to the likes of Caroline and Elena, who always seemed to steal the spotlight, even when they didn't mean to, she tended to feel like she was shoved into the shadows. There had only been three men to share her bed, and each of them had been people she'd loved and trusted in varying degrees. Years ago, she would have laughed at the absurdity of Damon ever being someone she did this with. He was too volatile, too hung up on Elena, too frustrating and violent and teetering toward evil. But that was before, in what seemed like a lifetime or three ago. Now, she wouldn't want anyone else there with her.

Damon took his time, licking and stroking, teasing her open and taking her right up to the edge. He sucked at her clit, dabbing it with his tongue, while he curved two fingers inside her, thrusting shallowly. Thighs wet and shaking, Bonnie gripped the sheets underneath her, a sheen of sweat making her skin damp. She lost track of time, her heart beating unsteadily, her toes curled tightly, every nerve ending attuned to where his mouth moved against her.

"Damon, _please_ …" Her back arched up and her shoulders pressed down. Everything was wound up tightly, every muscle coiled, all in anticipation of—

" _Fuck_."

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. She wasn't sure she got that out, biting down on her lip as he pushed her over the edge, not slowing down or pulling away this time.

She fell back to the bed, loose and floating, vaguely aware of the kisses he was pressing up the center of her body as he climbed to meet her. His hips slotted themselves between her wide-spread thighs. His stubble scraped against her neck and her chin before he settled over her mouth.

Bonnie stared up at him. His eyes weren't wide anymore, just heavy lidded with arousal and soft with contentment. She wound her arms around his waist and pulled him down, their fronts pressed together.

"I was scared."

His brow furrowed.

"That's why I didn't call you back sooner." She shook her head, staring up at him. "Sometimes I'm watching the girls play soccer or Caroline make dinner or I see Matt driving around in a car that says 'Sheriff' and I think… 'I'm dreaming.' Everything changed in three years. Everybody moved on. And if I close my eyes for too long, I'm back in the ground again, choking on dirt… I thought if you came back, you'd confirm it. That it was a dream or a nightmare or some kind of prison world. None of it's real. _I'm_ not real."

"Hey…" He rubbed a hand over her hair, smoothing it back from her face. "You _are_."

She stared up at him from bright, tearful eyes. "I don't want to die," she choked out, an emotional whisper, a desperate plea.

"You won't." His expression darkened, stiff and certain. "We'll ask the witches; hunt down whatever magical options are other there. You're not going anywhere." His thumb slipped down to rub over her cheek. "You trust me?"

Bonnie nodded, blinking back her tears.

"Just putting it out there, but you could always turn."

She shook her head, her mouth flattening in a line. "Not when we don't know who or what brought me back. It could trigger something. Put Elena back to sleep or backfire on us somehow. I don't want to risk it."

"What if none of that happens? What if all the witches have to say is it was some kind of weird cosmic mix up and that your heart will probably give out on you again, when you least expect it?"

"Then maybe I just learn to accept fate as it is. I don't know."

"I _do_. You didn't go through all of this just to lay down and let it happen. You've got sixty years coming to you, _at least_. And I'm going to be there for every minute of it."

"Yeah?" Her brows hiked. "You're gonna drag my eighty-year-old ass to Mystic Grill for a drink?"

"Nah. I'll bring the bourbon to you." He grinned down at her, and Bonnie couldn't help but return it.

She reached a hand up to brush her fingers through his hair and tipped her chin up, bumping his with hers.

He leaned down to kiss her, soft and slow. And then her hand stroked down his back and her legs tightened at his waist. Damon grunted against her lips and shifted forward, sinking a hand between them. He stroked his fingers along her slit, rubbing her clit a few times, before he wound his hand around his cock. She sunk her nails into his skin as he pressed inside her. He moved slowly, giving her time to readjust, pressing sloppy kisses along her neck and shoulders.

Bonnie wouldn't call it fireworks. It felt more like a bonfire, heating her from the outside in, built to last, burning away the persistent cold that had clung to her bones from the moment she came back to life. Everywhere he touched, every kiss he left on her, it felt like life being breathed back into her. She felt warm and real and free. No longer tethered to the ground in a way that kept her from growing and being and shaking off the fear of being dragged back down.

It wasn't the sex. Not really. It was the realization that she truly believed that together, they could reroute whatever plan life or death might have for her. That having Damon there, knowing how stubborn he was, what a team they made, that she could really do this. She could survive _anything_.

That said, the sex wasn't disappointing. It was slow and heady and, at times, overwhelming. In a lot of ways, Bonnie was used to having Damon's full attention, but this felt different. This felt consuming. It blotted out the outside world. Her vision narrowed to the blue of his eyes and the stroke of his fingers, to the bite of his teeth sinking down against soft flesh. He never broke her skin, and she didn't worry he might. A long time ago, the idea of him tearing open a vein to drain it completely would have been at the top of her list. But even as veins rippled along his cheeks and his teeth lengthened in his mouth, there was no fear. She trusted his restraint. Something she imagined a lot of people wouldn't understand, considering Damon had a pretty long record of having very little, if any, restraint.

This was different.

This was built over time, through hardship and mistakes, regret and forgiveness. Theirs was an up and down battle of wills, of right and wrong and the thin line in between. There was hate and love and admiration tripping over each other to make a strange alliance turned friendship turned something else completely. He was her best friend, and he always would be. But it was more than that. And not just because sex had a tendency to mess up perfectly good friendships, but because they had always been some kind of inevitable.

It took a whole lot of coming together and falling apart before they figured it out, but there was no escaping it now.

With Damon flat on his back, Bonnie sat in his lap, knees dug into the bed beneath her. She planted one hand on his chest to keep herself steady, while his hands slid up her hips, pulling and pushing. One hand slid down, fingers digging into the top of her thigh, and Bonnie covered it with her own. She rocked herself against him, that coiled up feeling of pleasure twisting and tightening.

Damon sat up, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from toppling back, and dragged his mouth up the column of her neck. Her head fell back and her hands settled on his shoulders, pulling at him. Their chests rubbed together, her breasts pressed flat. She wrapped an arm around his head, fingers buried in his hair. He sunk one hand down between them, searching out her clit, while his mouth slanted across hers. Bonnie lost her rhythm, focusing in on the feel of his mouth against hers. They panted against each other, lips swollen, and she stared down at him. A little delirious looking, starry eyed and smiling, happier than she could ever remember him looking. Except maybe that first time she came back, appearing in his kitchen, pancakes cooking on the grill.

 _'Bonnie?' 'One and only_.'

This felt like that. A reunion of two souls that just couldn't keep apart from each other. Not for too long. It would seem three years was their max. Not that she planned on testing that in future. She was pretty content not to leave this moment for a good long while.

This angle was working for her a lot better, along with the steady stimulation of his fingers against her clit. It didn't take her long to reach a climax that left her vision spotty and her heart stumbling to catch up. Her lungs emptied out and she floated there in that white space, her whole body light and free and just particles of energy and pleasure. Until it all came back together and she crashed down to earth once more, forehead plastered to his, his fingers dug in against her back as he came, her name a whisper on his lips. A breath more than a sound.

They clutched at each other for a long minute before they fell back to the bed, unlocking to lay side by side for a beat. And then he rolled over, dropping his head down close to hers and settling a hand atop her fast-beating heart. "Good?"

She opened bleary eyes to look at him. "Good."

He kept his hand there, feeling, listening, and she wondered if maybe he too was scared that any second it wasn't just going to give up on her. She covered his hand with her own and stroked the length of his fingers absently, drifting in that calm space as her body slowly pulled itself back together after the frenzy of before.

In true Damon fashion, he had to interrupt their bliss to be, well, _himself_. "So, what are the odds you summoned me back here for a booty call?"

Bonnie snorted. "Non-existent."

"Just a happy surprise then?"

She raised an eyebrow and looked over at him. "What are you fishing for here, exactly?"

"A guy can't ask what your intentions are? I have a reputation to think of here. I can't just be sleeping around with every pretty witch that bats her eyes at me."

Rolling her eyes, she stretched an arm out over her head and sighed. "You want me to ask Stefan for your hand in marriage?"

"It's 2020, I think I can accept any and all marriage proposals on my own. But I expect a ring."

"Bigger than the one you already have?"

"What, this old thing?" He grinned.

"You're an idiot."

"No argument here." With a laugh, he slid his hand up, fingers stroking along the length of her neck. She wondered if it was just another way to search out her pulse. His face softened, the humor of before fading as something more real, something edged with insecurity, showed through. "I don't want this to be a one-off between friends that we never talk about and pretend didn't definitely make things a little too…"

 _Intimate? Strange? Real?_ He never said it, but she got the gist.

Bonnie turned herself onto her side to face him, and tipped her head forward so their noses bumped together. "I don't want to make any promises until I know what kind of future I have… I'm not saying that to hurt you, because that's the last thing I want to do. But until I know for sure that I'm not on a shortlist to heart failure, I don't want to get anybody's hopes up, yours or mine."

Damon hummed. He flicked his fingers up to trace along her jaw, and up behind her ear. "So we play telephone with the witches tomorrow, and then we talk. Deal?"

She nodded.

"For the record though… Doesn't matter what they say. I'm not letting you go."

"There are some things even we can't fight, Damon." She stared at him searchingly. "And if that happens, I need to know that you'll be okay."

"You want me to lie?"

"I want you to _try_. Really try. None of this chasing windmills stuff. No burying yourself at the bottom of a bottle."

"As afterglow talks go, this one sucks." He pushed himself away, laying flat and glaring up at the ceiling.

"I can't be another person on your list of regrets."

"So _don't_ be."

" _Damon_ …"

He sighed, and turned his head toward her. "Can we go back to the sexy stuff? With the cuddling and kissing and pretending there's no impending doom aspect to all of this?"

Her mouth hitched up at the corner. "Sure."

"Awesome." He reached for her hand and pulled her forward, until she was pressed close to him once more. "Because I'm not done with you… Not even close."

Bonnie laughed as he buried his face at her shoulder, teasing his teeth over her skin.

Tomorrow, they would face the inevitable fallout of mortality at its finest. Today, she was going to let herself be swept away by hope.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _guess who had to borrow someone else's computer to post this. :/_

 _i've been having issues with my computer for the last couple of months and it finally just gave up on me. thankfully, i have my stories saved on dropbox. i learned that the hard way, unfortunately. this does mean, however, that updates for stories might be a little farther and fewer between. the laptop i'm borrowing is my mom's, and she's mostly only lending it to me for when i have homework due. so until i have my own laptop again, things will be complicated. for any of you who might be able to help, please drop by my tumblr, there's a blue 'buy me a coffee' button linking to my ko-fi page, where you can donate. if you can't find it, just search my ko fi tag and it should pop up. donations are at your discretion, anything will help!_

 _as for the last chapter, i should still have this computer until monday, so i'm hoping to post it then. possibly sunday. we'll see._

 _i hope you enjoyed this chapter. i had a lot of fun with it. the flow just really worked for me here. damon's such a dramatic guy, haha._

 _thanks so much for reading! please try to leave a review! :)_

 **\- Lee | Fina** _  
_


	3. future

**chapter** **rating** : mature/explicit  
 **warning(s)** : sexual content, blood play  
 **word count** : 13,676  
 **summary** : Three years ago, Bonnie Bennett died. After waking up in an unmarked grave, she returns to the land of the living with a whole lot of questions. Like how did she die? Who brought her back? Where is Damon? And how long until the cruel grip of Death comes for her again?

* * *

 _ **nine lives (and a tenth for good behavior)**_  
-3/3-

Bonnie and Damon didn't get around to asking the spirits for some answers for a couple days. Much of which was spent in her bedroom, or the shower, or a few times in the kitchen. But eventually, they showered and dressed and managed to keep their hands off each other.

"On a scale of 1 to that time you died in a dark cave and didn't tell anybody, how much energy does it take to call these ladies up?" Damon was sitting in an arm chair, flipping through her grimoire absently.

"Not too much." She dug a messenger bag out of the hallway closet and brought it into the living room. "I'm still opening up a conversation with people not really on this side, so it can be draining. It's like when we went to the witch's house. The leftover magic helps open that bridge."

He snapped the book shut and stared at her. His brow was knotted in a way that suggested he didn't believe her, or perhaps that he didn't believe anything could ever be too easy. Experience would agree with him. "That was when the witches were still hanging around. After the Other Side collapsed, it knocked things out of whack, didn't it?"

"Right, but I'm not contacting someone from the Other Side. I want someone who's found peace."

He hummed. "You mean like your Grams…"

"Preferably, but I'm not holding my breath. Contacting someone there isn't easy. When the Other Side existed, it was an in-between. Not quite heaven or hell, but not here either. The barrier between us and them was thinner. But to reach someone who's at peace, I have to go beyond that barrier."

"Yeah, the more you talk, the more exhausting this sounds." He pushed up from the arm chair, grimoire tucked at his side. "Are you sure you should be doing this? It feels like playing with fire…"

"I need answers."

"So let me call a few of my leads. I've met my fair share of witches over the last three years."

She cocked her head. "And how many of them are willing to talk to you anymore?"

"Eh, three or four."

Her lips pursed.

"I _grow_ on people. They didn't get the full Damon Salvatore effect."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. " _Anyway_. I found the spell to open up lines of communication. All I need is somewhere a little more… _magical_."

"We're going to the graveyard, aren't we?"

"Well, it does have a high concentration of magic and spirits."

Damon sighed. "Fine. But we need to stop off at the boarding house after. I have souvenirs for the nieces and a vintage bottle of tequila for Stefan."

"What'd you get Caroline?"

"Earplugs. She always complains that the sound of my voice gives her hives."

Bonnie snorted.

"Since the feeling's mutual, I got myself some, too."

"You're ridiculous."

He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Come on… There's more room in my bathtub. We can stretch out. I think I got a cramp just sitting in your tub."

"Mm-hmm. You weren't complaining at the time."

"Nobody complains when there's a beautiful woman in front of them, dripping wet and covered in bubbles. Especially if that woman is _you_. That's a fantasy I've had for years. I wasn't about to let a cramp ruin it for me."

"How romantic."

"I aim to please."

Bonnie collected the pillar candles spread out on the coffee table and tucked them away in her bag. "All right. Let's go. Maybe after we talk to the spirits, it'll be dinnertime and Caroline will take pity on us. Because I don't feel like cooking and I can't eat anymore of your pancakes."

"You're right, wouldn't want to ruin a good thing." He pointed at her, brows hiked. "We should have a monthly pancake day. The anticipation will make them even better."

Pressing her lips together to hide a smile, she strolled out the door. "If you say so."

"I do." He walked next to her as they crossed her front yard, close enough that their shoulders kept brushing. When they reached the car, he stepped ahead to swing the passenger door open, waving at her to climb in.

Bonnie took a seat and accepted the grimoire as he passed it to her. With a thrust of his arm, the door closed, and he circled around to the driver's side.

"Ready?" He shoved the key in the ignition.

She took a deep breath and nodded. Despite wanting answers from the moment she'd woken up in her grave, now she was feeling a little reticent to chase them down. What if she didn't like what she found out? What if all of this really was temporary? Or some kind of fever dream for the dead? The idea that she might've actually gotten a no-strings second (third? fourth?) chance just seemed so unlikely.

"Sooner we get some answers, sooner we can start focusing on other things." Damon pulled away from the curb and took off down the road. "Like your marriage proposal."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I didn't ask you to marry me."

He grinned at her. "Not yet."

Bonnie laid out a circle of candles in a part of the cemetery that was well known for its magical affiliations. It was an off-set of the general cemetery, where they'd buried the witches in unmarked graves. It was a darker part of history that the town didn't like to discuss. At some point, someone had expanded the fence to include it, despite the fact that it looked empty. Suspicious people fearing retribution from the supernatural thought it might keep people from walking on sacred ground.

Bonnie sat herself down in the center of her candle ring, her legs crossed beneath her.

Damon kept his distance, perched atop a headstone, eyes sharp and mouth flat.

One by one, the candles lit, orange flames stretching up impossibly high before they settled.

Taking a deep breath, Bonnie closed her eyes and focused. The words from her spell came out clean, with the sort of seriousness she always applied to magic. This was no place to disrespect the people who would be sharing their knowledge with her.

It took time. She repeated the spell, over and over, until a rough tickle made her throat ache. But she could feel the magic around multiply, so she pushed past the feeling and focused on her chant. The atmosphere grew heavier. The air seemed to thicken and Bonnie felt a pressure form all around her.

And then, a shift…

A knot formed at her brow before she opened her eyes.

It was not Sheila Bennett that sat before her, but Emily.

"It has been a long time, Little Witch." Emily lowered her chin an inch in greeting.

Bonnie felt her heart lurch in her chest. She'd told herself not to hope for Grams, but now, she couldn't help but wish somehow Sheila Bennett had pushed through. Shaking off the feeling, she remembered her objective.

"You have questions." Emily searched her face. "I think I owe you answers after the difficulty I caused. Family is family, Miss Bennett. Ask what you will, I will answer what I can."

Bonnie nodded, a quick jerk of her head, and then choked out, "How…?" She cleared her throat. "How am I alive? I died, three years ago. A heart attack."

"You think you don't deserve it? A chance to live the life you never had."

"It's not about _deserving_ something."

"Isn't it?" Emily tipped her head, staring at her curiously. "The legacy of Bennett witches is one spoiled with sacrifice. We put others before ourselves. We fight for the Balance when it won't fight for us. We demand that others do right, but are never treated with the same respect. With Lucy's passing, you are the last of us. The last Bennett witch. With your death, we are lost. A footnote in magic's history."

Bonnie shook her head. "So that's it? I'm alive because you were afraid the Bennetts would be forgotten?"

"You are alive because you _deserve_ to be. Because we have allowed ourselves to be martyrs for the cause for too long. _No more._ No more laying down your life in exchange for another's."

"I have these gifts for a reason... If I can use them for _good_ —"

"Your powers are your own, Bonnie. We will not limit you. But think of what led to your heart failing you. Think of how much you gave, how you pushed your body and your magic to the brink. Think of _why_ you died, and ask yourself if all of it was truly worth it."

Bonnie's throat swelled, and her eyes burned. "I was trying to do the right thing."

"And you paid the price." Emily leaned forward, catching Bonnie's gaze. "This is a gift. The combined efforts of every Bennett witch before you has offered you the chance to live again. Live the way we cannot. Live the way life has rarely offered you. Be free, Bonnie. Free of the shackles that have weighed down your ancestors in ways that we still see today. Owe nothing to anybody but yourself. Take from this opportunity what you deserve."

"So it isn't… There's no time limit on this?"

"Only what you put on yourself. Extend yourself too far and your heart can only take so much. Take care of yourself, return to your roots, give to nature what you take from it, and you can live a long and beautiful life."

Blinking back tears, she smiled. "Thank you." She looked around, despite knowing she wouldn't see anymore of her ancestors, especially not the one she wanted to see most.

Emily smiled back, lowering her chin, and then she faded out of sight, leaving Bonnie to her seat on the dry grass, surrounded by slowly dying candles.

"Well?" Damon called.

Bonnie's shoulders fell, relief rushing through her. She pushed up from the ground and dusted herself off. "I think I'm going to be okay."

"Yeah?" Damon hopped off the headstone and walked toward her. He stepped over the flickering flames and into the candle ring, and then paused, giving a full body shudder.

Bonnie frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just a weird energy surge. Pretty sure it's a witchy warning to get off your ancestors." Ignoring it, he ducked down to gather up the candles in reach. As soon as the first one was removed from the ring, the other candles went out. Damon packed them away in Bonnie's bag and looked up at her. "So, who did it? Was it Sheila? I feel like she's probably running things over there."

Bonnie smiled faintly. "Her and everyone else. It was a gift. I'm the last of the Bennetts and they didn't want us to die away like that."

"They just took matters into their own hands?" His brows hiked, and then flattened, seeming to accept this twist. "Pays to be a witch, I guess."

"Sometimes." She put her grimoire away in the bag with the candles, and watched as Damon stood, hitching the long strap over his shoulder. He held a hand out to her then. She folded their fingers together and held on tight as they left the cemetery.

"So you've got your sixty years back then? No more heart problems?"

"As long as I take care of myself. She said I should reconnect with my magic and nature, and I think she's right. I've been doing this on my own for a while, pushing limits I didn't even know I had. I think it'll be good to get back to basics, try to do this without the weight of some apocalyptic deadline to think about."

"Whatever keeps you on your toes, Bon-Bon." He bumped her shoulder and grinned down at her. "Feel better?"

She blew out a relieved sigh and nodded. "A lot better."

"Great. Then after we play nice with Stefan and Caroline, we get to talk details."

"Details?"

" _Yup_."

"Is this your roundabout way of asking how long-term this is?" She motioned between them.

He swung their joined hands back and forth. "I think we both know I've had some… _complicated_ relationships in the past. I was hoping to skip the messy parts here and just get to the good stuff. I'm not saying 'let's pick out the wedding china,' but it was a long three years. Settling down and keeping you from kicking anymore buckets sounds like something I can sign up for."

She bit her lip as she smiled. "Well, with an offer like _that_ …"

Damon released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her in against his side. He dropped a kiss atop her head and walked them toward the car. "Is that a 'yes'?"

"It's a tentative 'let's see where this goes.'"

"I can work with that."

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Matt slumped down onto a stool with a sigh. He dropped his Sheriff's hat on the bar and nodded to the guy making drinks, wrapping an appreciative hand around a bottle of beer that was quickly set in front of him.

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Long night?"

"Did you know people still tagged things? I've been chasing sixteen-year-old kids all night and their graffiti work…? Nothing to be proud of."

She laughed, and raised her glass of bourbon in cheers. "To hard work."

He knocked his bottle against her glass and took a long drag. "What about you? What'd you do today?"

"Honestly? Not a lot. I found a coven a town over, I've been emailing back and forth with their leader about different ways to connect to my powers. She says it'll take a lot of time and meditation, especially if I've extended myself too far. I need to teach it to trust me… Like it's a pet I mistreated or something."

"Huh. And it's going okay?"

"Yeah. Just slowly." She shrugged. "It's given me some time settle back into things. It's weird, it was only three years, but the town feels different. A lot of new faces."

"People forget all the weird things that happen around here. Turns into urban legend, so the families move back, looking for that small-town charm." He shook his head. "Comfort of not looking behind the curtain, I guess."

"Yeah, well, you've got that handled, don't you, Sheriff?" She leaned over to bump his shoulder with her own. "Must be hard, juggling the regular police work with your after-hours vampire hunting…"

"It's not easy, but… I don't know. I like it. Keeps me young."

She snorted. "I don't think you need to worry about that…" She looked around pointedly at the many young women that were casting an interested eye in Matt's direction. "Do Sheriff's have groupies?"

He shook his head, laughing under his breath. "Whatever. You don't get to talk. Hooking up with _Damon_ …" His brows hiked as he looked at her.

Bonnie frowned and shifted on her stool. "Is that weird?"

"It's _different_." He shrugged. "Not unexpected though."

"Really?"

"Damon is… _Damon_. We're never gonna be best friends, our priorities are too different for that. But the one thing we can agree on is you."

Bonnie stared up at him, a little confused. "Me?"

"After everything happened, when you died, I tried to hold out hope. You have a way of coming back, so I wanted to believe it'd be like that. But eventually, you just get jaded. Old wounds don't heal, they just harden. Figured it was easier to stop hoping for miracles and get back to what I'm used to. Grieving over people that deserved better…" He licked his lips and stared down at his beer a long moment. "Damon, he wasn't willing to do that. Don't always like him, but he never gave up on you. It's funny, you know. When he first turned up in town, those first couple years, he would've thrown any one of us to the wolves. But he's loyal. If he cares about you, he's in it for the long haul."

Bonnie hummed. "Yeah. He's clingy, right?"

Matt grinned. "I'm just saying, I get it. I'm not his biggest fan, but you and him, you make sense. It was a long time coming, I think."

"Did you pre-drink?" she teased.

"Hey! I'm trying to be supportive here."

"Well, don't. Eventually he'll screw up, and I need you to be my sounding board when I need to vent about him."

He chuckled. "Deal."

Leaning against him, she let out a long, content sigh. "Thank you, though."

"Any time."

* * *

 **…**

* * *

"I'm not knocking meditation. I'm just saying, there are a lot of other things I could be doing right now… Reorganizing the girls' bedrooms, finishing up that _awful_ book for book club, wedding planning, sexing up my ridiculously hot fiancé, making dinner, scrapbooking…"

" _Caroline_." Bonnie opened her eyes to frown at her best friend. "You're the one that offered to help me reconnect with nature."

"Well, _yeah_ , but I thought it'd be more like going for a hike in the morning or something. Not sitting on the ground, humming like monks. Not to mention, it's getting cold out here. It's _November_. I wouldn't be surprised if it starts snowing."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "It helps me focus. And it makes my magic stronger."

"Well, it puts me to sleep. I'm _bored!_ I don't know how you can do this every day."

With a shrug, she said, "Sometimes I just do yoga. It helps me wind down and focus."

"Yoga I can do!" Caroline brightened. "I can fit that in between dropping the girls off at school and town council meetings. It's been a little hectic lately because we're discussing details about the fair next month. You wouldn't believe how many people want to argue about whether an apple crisp should be allowed in the pie contest."

"I really wouldn't." Bonnie shook her head. "Look, you don't have to come out. Really."

"No, I want to." Reaching across the space between them, Caroline grabbed Bonnie's hands and gave them a shake. "I'm sorry. I'm too neurotic to just sit still like this. I've got a hundred and three things on my mind."

"It's fine. We'll do yoga together. I can do my meditations on my own."

"Now I feel bad." Caroline frowned. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

"It's fine, Care, seriously. You've been awesome. Except maybe about the bacon thing. I still don't get that."

"It's bad for your cholesterol, which affects your heart." Caroline stared at her sternly. "I just want you to eat right."

"Okay, but you can't _pick_ bacon off my food. Not only is it unsanitary, but it's _crazy_."

"Crazy is how I show my love." Pushing up off the forest floor, Caroline dusted herself off and then helped Bonnie to her feet. "Speaking of, did you check in with your cardiologist?"

"Yes, and just like _always_ , Dr. Choi said my heart is fine. I don't need to see her every week. It's been six months and there's no signs I'm going to flatline any second." Grabbing up her things, Bonnie turned on her heel to walk back toward the boarding house, Caroline keeping pace at her side, swinging her water bottle back and forth. "I know you're worried, but I'm really okay. I told you what Emily said."

"Sure, but that wouldn't be the first time a witch lied to us. I just want to be absolutely certain. Last time was…" Caroline's face twisted up. "I know it's selfish, but I can't lose you again. I tried to be okay after. I threw myself into being a mom and making sure my family was happy. But there was always something missing. Some _one_ missing."

"I know." Bonnie bumped Caroline's hip with her own. "But I'm not going anywhere. Not for a long time anyway. My heart's good, I'm working on my magic, and I'm resting. A lot. Almost more than I like."

" _Good_." Caroline nodded. "So, subject change, are you coming to dinner tonight?"

"It's Friday. I wouldn't miss it. I know you said not to bring anything, but I found an old recipe of Grams' and I think you'll love it."

"Awesome. The girls really want to see you."

"I saw them last Saturday. I was the one cheering so loud I was getting dirty looks."

Caroline giggled. "And they appreciate it. Especially the homemade signs you make. I was wondering where all my glitter glue went, but now I know."

"They're good kids. Questionable soccer players, but really good kids."

" _Hey_ …" Caroline protested good-naturedly. "They're eight. They'll get better."

"If you say so."

The boarding house came into view then, and they picked up their pace to cross the backyard to the door leading inside.

Stefan was sitting at the kitchen table, book open in front of him.

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that what we're supposed to read for book club?"

He smiled, amused. "It is. Caroline said she was too busy with town council, so she asked me to read it and give her the Cliff's Notes."

"Caroline!"

" _What?_ I _am_ too busy. Besides, Stefan loves reading. And he's better at breaking down the character's motives than anything I could find online."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You guys are ridiculous."

"I know." Grinning, Caroline circled around to kiss Stefan, and then took a seat in the chair next to him.

"You guys are done early…" Stefan looked between them.

" _Someone_ got bored, so we called it quits." Bonnie crossed the kitchen to grab an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter.

His brows flicked up, unsurprised.

"I'm starting to feel a little picked on here," Caroline said, but she was smiling.

"You bring it on yourself." Taking a bite out of her apple, Bonnie started across the kitchen. "Anyway, I should head out. I told Damon I'd drop by the Grill when I was done here."

"Oh, how's that going?" Caroline frowned thoughtfully. "It's weird to think that he owns it now."

Bonnie shrugged. "Keeps him busy. Sometimes I think he bought it just so he could tell Matt that if he ever loses his badge, he can have his old job back. They're getting along okay. I think Matt's glad Damon's around to help with anything weird going on around town. I know he has you guys, but I think he felt bad, since you have the girls."

"We're always happy to help in whatever way we can," Stefan said.

"I know." Bonnie smiled. "Anyway. I'll see you guys tonight. I'll bring that potato dish I was telling you about."

"Okay." Caroline sat forward in her seat and stole Stefan's coffee. "And hey, call me later."

"I'm seeing you in like eight hours."

"So? I want to talk anyway. I have a busy day. Things happen!"

With a laugh, Bonnie waved at her, before pushing through the kitchen door and making her way out.

* * *

Bonnie found Damon sitting at a table in the corner of Mystic Grill, paperwork spread out in front of him.

"Hard at work?" She slid into the booth beside him and looked over the papers, employee's names and hours scribbled out in his slanted writing.

"Something like that." He finished his sentence and then turned, popping a kiss to her cheek. "How was meditation?"

"Short-lived." She sighed and leaned back in the booth, eyeing him. "Caroline's not cut out for sitting still. She did offer to do yoga with me, though."

"Yeah? I have a feeling she won't like it when you get into downward dog and I join in."

Bonnie laughed. "You're going to have to keep your hands to yourself, caveman."

"I'll see what I can do, but I make no guarantees." He dropped a hand down to her thigh and rubbed the heel of his palm down the length of it. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." Bonnie leaned over and laid her head against his shoulder. "I know you're worried, but I'm _okay_."

"You haven't been pushing yourself?"

"Damon, I sat on the ground and hummed for like a half an hour today. If anything, I'm restless."

"You want an apron? You can run bar if you want."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I already waitress for you three days of the week. I'm good."

"So, what do you want then?" He shifted to look at her. "What would make you happy?"

"I want to go the meetings you and Matt are having. I know you think you're hiding it from me, but you're not. You guys get together on book club nights to talk strategy about keeping the town safe. You avoid telling me when something dangerous is happening. I don't want you to coddle me. We're partners. _You_ said that. Bonnie and Clyde."

"Yeah, well, that Bonnie didn't have a heart condition."

"It's not a condition, and it's been dealt with. Damon, I'm _healthy_. I'm taking care of myself, every day, and I'm not overdoing it. I don't need magic to help you keep the town safe. We've hunted down vampires with stake guns and no magic before. I can do this. But you have to let me in."

He frowned, not looking entirely convinced, but eventually sighed. "Fine. But only because Matt is a terrible 'Bonnie.' He second guesses everything I do."

"So do I."

"Sure, but you do it out of _love_. He does it because he doesn't trust me."

"You guys have a spotty history."

"So do we."

"We were different. For one thing, Matt was never forced into an isolated prison world for four months with nothing but your company to keep him going."

"Is that a suggestion?"

" _Damon_."

He grinned. "All right, fine. Back to business. _Yes_ , you can start hanging out with us while we talk about what's going on in town. But no magical cures. Not until we're sure it won't result in a trip to Dr. Choi."

"Okay." She pulled his arm up and around her. "You put Taylor on to manage tonight, right? We've got dinner with Stefan and Caroline."

"Yeah, she's coming in early. You still planning on putting together that potato thing?"

"Mm-hmm. I'm gonna head home soon."

"How soon?"

She raised an eyebrow. "We're not hooking up in your office again."

"All right, but anybody could walk into the bathroom…"

Rolling her eyes, she elbowed him in the side.

Damon merely laughed.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Damon grumbled about wearing matching shirts, but he'd promptly forgotten all about his whining after Lizzie and Josie took both of his hands and jumped around excitedly upon seeing him in it. He was wearing Lizzie's soccer jersey number and Bonnie was wearing Josie's. It was the last game of the fall season and they'd shown up in support, especially since Caroline was bogged down with town council stuff and wasn't sure she'd be able to make it.

With the girls racing from one end of the soccer field to the other, not particularly invested in whether they won or not, Bonnie and Damon took a seat in the stands, cheering whenever the girls looked their way.

"Are you warm enough?" Damon looked Bonnie over, her jacket unzipped so she could rep Josie's number more obviously.

"I'm fine." She smiled up at him and leaned against his side. "It's not that cold."

"It's almost December. You should have gloves on."

"You're such a worrywart."

Taking her hands in his, he rubbed his own over them, and lifted them up to blow hot air between her palms.

Bonnie giggled, and dropped her head against his shoulder. "There's like five minutes left, I think I'll avoid frostbite."

He hummed, but didn't drop her hands, his gaze set on the field.

Suddenly, Lizzie had the soccer ball in front of her. She stood, staring down at it in confusion.

Damon leapt up. "Kick it!" he yelled. "Run, Lizzie, _run!_ " He waved his arms, pointing at the opposing goal.

Startled into movement, she kicked the ball, and she was off. Grinning wildly, she ran it down the field, carefully avoiding the other girls.

"She's gonna do it… Holy shit, she's gonna score." Damon was clapping and cheering her on. "You got it! Keep going, Lizzie!"

Bonnie stood with him, clapping and cheering.

"Is that my daughter?" Caroline appeared next to them, her eyes wide. "That _is_ my daughter. Oh my God. Oh my _God!_ Go, go, go, Lizzie! You can do it, baby!"

Down on the field, Stefan had his arms up, one holding a clipboard, the other buried in his hair. "Yes! _Yes!_ "

Just short of the net, Lizzie kicked the ball, and it sailed past the tiny eight-year-old goalie. _Score!_

Damon let out a shrill whistle and laughed. "That's my niece!" He pointed at the field excitedly. "That's my niece!"

Bonnie was laughing happily, a hand covering her mouth.

Josie crossed the field in a hot second and tackled her sister to the ground in a hug.

Stefan ran out onto the field to grab them both up; he picked them right off the ground and spun them in circles.

Caroline and Damon both turned and high-fived each other over Bonnie's head, riding the high of the moment enough to forget they still semi-disliked each other, depending on the day.

Damon wrapped an arm around Bonnie's shoulders and pulled her into his side, grinning so wide that it transformed his whole face.

She smiled up at him and breathed out a happy sigh, turning her head to watch Caroline hurry down and join her family, hugging and kissing everybody. What had seemed to suspiciously perfect just six months ago now seemed exactly right, for everybody involved. Bonnie was glad that Caroline had her happily-ever-after with Stefan and the girls. And she was grateful she'd found her own, too.

Damon shuffled them off the stands so they could walk down and meet the excited girls, each holding Caroline or Stefan's hand, bouncing happily, with big smiles and flushed cheeks.

"Did you see? Aunty Bonnie, did you see what I did?" Lizzie leaned over and grabbed at Bonnie's hand, tugging enthusiastically. "I got a goal!"

"I saw. You did such a great job!" Bonnie stroked a hand over Lizzie's blonde hair and grinned at her. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!"

"You know what this means?" Damon said.

Both Josie and Lizzie pushed up onto the tips of their toes, eyes wide as they looked up at him. " _Pizza?_ " they chorused.

"Pizza," he agreed. "Whatever you want on it. We'll make it together. I'll even show you how to make the family pizza sauce. It's a secret, you know."

"A _secret?_ " They looked up to their parents hopefully.

Caroline and Stefan shared a look and then nodded at their daughters.

"Are we gonna make the dough? I wanna throw it!" Josie said, grabbing on to Damon's hand and leaning against his hip.

"Sure. We can make that happen."

Together, the six of them walked to the benches, where all the gear was waiting, along with an excited team and their parents, all happy to pat Lizzie on the back for her winning goal.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

At the beginning of December, Bonnie received a surprise visit. In the middle of making dinner, or, more accurately, watching Damon make dinner, there was a knock at the door.

"We expecting someone?"

Bonnie shook her head and pushed herself off the island counter. "Not that I know of. I'll get it."

Damon paused in chopping up garlic, his brow raised. "You sure?"

"It's my house…" She walked backwards down the hallway.

He waved the knife around off-handedly. "I like to think of it as _ours_."

"I've noticed." She grinned, before turning on her heel and continuing to the door. Whoever she was expecting to see on the other side, it wasn't _him_.

"It's true then. You _are_ alive."

Bonnie blinked. "I… How did you find out?"

"No welcome back? Should've guessed, I suppose." Enzo took a look past her, to where Damon was puttering around the kitchen, and his jaw ticked. "How long's that been going on?"

Bonnie sighed. She pushed out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. "This isn't about Damon."

"Isn't it?" He scoffed. "Wasn't it _always_?"

She stared up at him searchingly. "I did love you."

"Right." His mouth twisted and his brows arced, unconvinced. "Nothing says 'love' like resurrecting and searching out another man."

"It wasn't like that. For the first three months, I didn't look for anyone, you or him. I was putting myself back together. Walking on eggshells. Terrified I was going to die again and there'd be no more second chances." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It puts things into perspective. You start asking yourself why you did what you did. What you'll do if your time really is limited. Who you want to spend that time with."

"And he was the lucky winner?"

"I missed him. Not… Not _more_ than you. Just in a different way." Bonnie sighed and shook her head. "Damon and I were complicated. Sometimes we felt inevitable and other times we felt like a tragedy waiting to happen. I told myself that he loved Elena, there would never be anyone _but_ Elena, and that I was okay with that. I wanted to be with someone that would put me first, that would love me as much as I loved them, and you were that, Enzo."

"But I wasn't enough. Our love wasn't _enough_ for you."

"You deserve someone who loves you with all of themselves, and a part of me was still holding onto Damon. It couldn't let go of him. That wasn't fair to you, to _us_." She remembered the letter, how she brought it with her, no matter where she went, unwilling to open it but unwilling to get rid of it, too.

"How is it that bloody man gets everything?" He stabbed an angry finger toward the door. "What has he ever done that deserves that kind of love and loyalty?"

"It's not my place to defend him, and it'll only hurt you more if I do." She stared up at him sadly, and stepped forward. Reaching up on her tip-toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and stroked her finger across it. "I'm sorry I didn't find you. I owed you an explanation. And a goodbye."

Enzo tipped his head back and drew in a deep breath. He raised his eyes, away from her, as they shone bright against his will. "I was hoping for a different outcome here, love."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

He nodded. "Take care of yourself, Bonnie." He returned her kiss with one to her forehead. "And if you ever change your mind, I'm sure you can find me."

Bonnie said nothing. She simply stood, staring ahead as Enzo turned on his heel and walked down her porch stairs. She knew that if she turned, he would be gone, and, in all likelihood, she would never see him again.

The front door opened, and Damon stood, leaning against the jamb. "Should I be worried you're second guessing your choices?"

Bonnie's mouth turned up faintly. She turned to face him, and shook her head. "No." Stepping through the door, Bonnie didn't look back. Her hand slid over Damon's stomach and hooked around his side, drawing him back into the house with her. "Weren't you cooking?"

"Is that a hint?"

"That I'm hungry? _Yes_ , absolutely. I was promised an authentic Italian pasta and a whole lot of wine… And not the boxed variety either."

"I'm offended you've even _had_ boxed wine." Hooking his arm around her shoulders, he led her toward the kitchen. "And my pasta is going to knock your socks off."

"Big words from a guy whose pancake batter is the baking equivalent of grout."

" _Rude_."

Bonnie laughed, and the heavy feeling of Enzo's visit dissipated, leaving her feeling light and happy and whole.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Just about every available surface of her bedroom was dressed in candles. With a flick of Bonnie's fingers, fiery wicks grew or dimmed. She'd found a happy medium that cast dancing shadows on the wall. Her magic was stronger. She could feel it in her core. Every day she spent connecting to it, _listening_ to it, building that trust between herself and her power, she felt something cement itself inside her.

She lowered her ring finger and watched as the lights on her left and right dimmed, while the ones ahead, on her dresser, brightened.

"Cool trick."

Bonnie blinked. The candles leveled out and she turned her head to look at Damon.

His hair was sleep-mussed and he stared up at her from heavy-lidded blue eyes, mouth pulling up faintly.

"I used to wonder why fire was my go-to element. It always seemed too destructive…" She looked down and then away, back to the candles. "I was really angry growing up. I tried not to be. I tried to be calm and accepting and…"

"Normal?"

"Average." She pursed her lips. "But I was _so_ angry… I used to hope my mom would come back just so I could tell her I didn't need her. I _never_ needed her. And my dad… He was always gone. He buried himself in work." She shook her head. "I had Grams, but it wasn't the same. Elena had amazing parents. I was always so jealous of her for that. Caroline, too. I don't think I really got her until her dad left and her guard came down a little more. Easier to relate to pain when you've been feeling it for so long."

Damon didn't say anything. Rather, he reached out, stroking his fingers up and down her forearm, and he listened.

"And then when I lost Grams, fire started making sense. It was like all that hurt and anger that was built up in me, this was how it was going to come out. Even when I pushed myself too far, a part of me liked it. The release that magic gave me. I could deal with nosebleeds, but I couldn't figure out how to get past the abandonment and the fear."

She bit her lip a long moment. "I'm not over it. I'm still mad at my mom. At my dad. And I miss Grams. I think about her all the time. What she could've taught me. How she could've helped me through so much of this… I was given this gift, this opportunity to try again, but I'm the last one. The only Bennett left in the whole world and it's so… It's _lonely_."

She shook her head. "There are other witches, I know that. But there was something nice about knowing that Lucy was out there. At least then I wasn't alone. But I am. One day, sixty years from now, that's it. No more Bennetts. And that makes me angry, too. Because we did try. We tried so hard to be good people who helped and what did it get us?"

Damon's hand sunk down into hers and Bonnie folded her fingers into the spaces between his.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out on a sigh, and then turned to him. "Am I ungrateful?"

"No."

She frowned, unconvinced.

"Bonnie…" He squeezed her hand. "You're allowed to be pissed. It's not like the world handed you much to be happy with. It seemed to be pretty happy giving you the short-end of the stick most of the time. If you want to be mad, be mad. You wanna talk about it, I'm a pretty good listener. Usually when I'm a little more intoxicated, but I can make an exception for you."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "My hero."

He grinned lightly.

Shuffling closer to him, she reached a hand up and pressed her palm flat over his cheek, the tips of her fingers flaring out to skim against his hair. "You used to make me angry… You were always so cocky and demanding and you drove me _crazy_ …"

"I have that effect."

"You still do. Sometimes." She stared at him searchingly. "But you make me happy, too."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Really happy."

His face softened. "It's mutual."

Her thumb traced under his eye gently. "I do love you, Damon. It scares me sometimes just how much. Because before I died, when you went into that box, I was so lost. And I was _angry_ , because I put so much faith in you. I wanted to believe that no matter what happened, you'd always be there, you'd always have my back, but you left, too. And I know there are some things that you just can't promise, but—"

"I'll never leave you again." He stared at her seriously. "It was a mistake. Getting into that box, writing you a letter, hoping you'd understand, all of it. I was an _idiot_. I thought I was the reason you were always getting hurt. That if I just eliminated myself, you'd be safer or happier or _something_. But I wasn't thinking. Because at least if I'm here, I know someone is doing everything they can to keep you alive. And that's what I want, Bonnie. I just want you to be here, alive and happy. I spent three years not having you, and let me tell you, the world _sucks_. What's so great about living forever if the only one you want around isn't there?"

She smiled, her mouth trembling. "I think I can relate."

"So no more walking away, all right? I'm here, you're here, we're good."

Bonnie nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." He leaned in then, kissing her for a long moment. And when he broke away, he stroked his fingers through her hair, tucking it back, behind her ear. "I mentioned I love you too, right?"

She shook her head.

"It was implied."

Her eyes narrowed. "Was it?"

He chuckled, grinning at her. "I love you." He pecked her lips. "I _reeeally_ love you…" He pushed her over to lay flat on her back and ducked his head down to press a kiss to her neck. "You want me to prove it?"

Bonnie giggled, her heart feeling light and floaty in her chest. "How?"

Damon raised his head and stared down at her through soft blue eyes. "Ask me again in sixty years. I'll be right here. Glued to your side." He patted a hand against her hip. "Like an _octopus_."

Her mouth parted on a smile. "Yeah?"

He ducked down, lips brushing against hers as he said, "Yeah."

* * *

 **…**

* * *

On the anniversary of Bonnie's death, they gathered at the boarding house for a Christmas party. Matt invited his new girlfriend, Sasha. Tyler drove in from California with his fiancé Dani and her son Ben in tow. Together, they all gathered in the parlor.

Next to the fire, Josie and Lizzie set up their favorite game board and placed an honorary piece on it for Alaric. Stefan was busy in the kitchen, cooking, while Caroline made her rounds, acting as host. All the while, Damon never left Bonnie's side.

"I'm not going to collapse," she assured him, when he adamantly refused to bring her the apple cider she'd asked for. Caroline had been reworking the recipe so the cinnamon wasn't so overpowering this time around.

"You don't know that."

"I had a consult with Dr. Choi this morning. My heart is _fine_. I did an extra hour of meditation. You didn't let me work all week, just in case it was stressful. I literally spent most of today just getting ready. The most taxing thing I did today was run across a parking lot to get a pedicure, and that was just because I was five minutes late for my appointment. Which only happened because I fell asleep watching trashy TV."

"Dr. Phil again? Did he put verbs in his sentences?"

Bonnie laughed. "Shut up."

"I'm still not getting you the apple cider. I have PTSD from that crap."

"Damon, seriously…" She hooked her arms around his waist and leaned back to look at him. "I know you're worried, but we've done everything we possibly could to make sure I was healthy."

"I thought you were healthy last time." He brushed her hair back from her face and skimmed his fingers down the slope of her neck, thumb pressing down against her pulse in a way that had become all too familiar. Sometimes, she'd wake up in the middle of the night to find his head on her chest, ear pressed to her heart.

"I overdid it before. I wasn't taking care of myself. It's different this time."

He sighed, long and loud, but then nodded. "Fine. But I still think you should've had some of my blood, _just in case_."

She raised an eyebrow. "We talked about this…"

"It's a valid suggestion." He stepped back from her and then turned, making his way to the table that was set up with drinks and snacks.

"Still pushing the blood thing, huh?" Caroline came to a stop next to her. "Don't get me wrong, I think he's got a point, _but_ … I'll respect your choices."

Bonnie smiled and knocked her shoulder against Caroline's. "Thank you. And seriously, congratulations on this place. The decorations look amazing. How much time did you spend putting it all together?"

"Probably too long. Stefan found me in here hanging silver bells from the ceiling at three in the morning. He had to drag me off the ladder and put me to bed. But I couldn't _sleep_ , I just kept thinking that the tree was an inch too far to the left." She frowned in the direction of the tall, decorated tree set up in front of the window. "You see it too, right?"

Swallowing a laugh, Bonnie stared up at her friend until she sighed.

"I _know_. Anyway, the girls helped, too. They magicked a lot of the decorations into place so I'd stop worrying about it. I'm glad you like it." She hooked an arm through Bonnie's. "And I'm glad you're here."

"Wouldn't be anywhere else."

Caroline took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Bonnie Bennett."

"I hope you do."

"Here." Damon appeared then, handing a drink off to Bonnie and then another to Caroline.

Caroline eyed the cup suspiciously, but took it from his outstretched hand. "Okay, I'm going to go introduce myself to Tyler's new little family. Maybe Ben wants to join the girls in a game of Monopoly." She wiggled her eyebrows and then walked away, putting on her friendly host face.

Damon's hand slid over Bonnie's back as he tugged her into his side. He leaned down, the tip of his nose grazing her face from her temple to her cheek. "How much longer do we have to hang around playing nice?"

"A while." She sipped at her apple cider. "It's only six. We've been here an hour, if that."

"I left Taylor with the Grill. Who knows if it's still standing."

"Oh, please. She runs it all the time, I'm sure she can handle it tonight."

"Well, see, now you've jinxed it." His hand rubbed circles along the small of her back as he bent to press a kiss to her shoulder.

"Have not." She tipped her head a little, sipping at her cider. "And pretend you don't like it all you want, I know you enjoy these get-togethers."

"Any other night, sure. But _tonight_ …" His brows hiked. "I don't like tonight."

Bonnie hummed, and then turned to look at him. "What did you do every other time? For three years…"

"Drank." He shrugged. "The first year, that wasn't pretty. I made some less than stellar choices… People got hurt."

Bonnie pressed her lips flat. "And the other two?"

"I learned to control myself a little better. Figured I should take out my self-hate on myself and not others… Turns out that's just a recipe for drinking until I blackout."

Bonnie slid her hand up his back and turned, pressing her chest to his. His hand slid up from her neck, fingers curling in her hair. "New tradition, right?"

"New tradition."

A cleared throat suddenly drew their attention, and they turned to see Stefan standing awkwardly near the doorway leading into the hall. "Uh, someone else decided to join in."

Elena stepped through then, and smiled at the group collected. "Sorry I'm late…"

Bonnie's fingers flexed against Damon's back. His hand slid from her hair to land atop her shoulder, and squeezed.

Matt crossed the room to hug Elena first. Tyler followed after, drawing Dani along with him for introductions.

Ben, who was hiding behind Tyler's legs, peeked out curiously at Elena, who smiled down at him gently. He ducked away, and then fled, hurrying toward Josie and Lizzie, sitting in front of their board game.

Caroline swept in then, grabbing Elena up in a hug that, judging by Elena's wince, was just a little too tight, and rocked her from side to side. "I'm so happy you came!"

Elena nodded. "Me too. I'm sorry I didn't give you a head's up. It was kind of last minute."

"No, don't worry about it. We're just glad you're here." She stepped back. "Come in, come in. And let me get your jacket."

Elena shrugged her coat off and let Caroline's high energy distract her for a moment.

"We should go say 'hi.'" Bonnie swallowed down the surge of worry climbing up her throat and pasted on a smile.

"She'll find us when she wants to." Damon kept her pulled close, a finger curling around a tendril of her hair.

It was a few minutes before Elena eventually made her way over. Caroline bustled off to the kitchen with Stefan on her heels, leaving Elena to look around the room and decide on who she wanted to see next.

She walked up to them slowly, rubbing her hands together in that way Bonnie knew meant she was nervous and trying to hide it.

"Hey…" She smiled at them, eyes darting from faces to hands to the lack of space between their bodies. "Merry Christmas, I guess. I feel like Tuesday's kind of a weird day to throw a party, but Caroline was pretty set on the date."

Damon stiffened; his whole body became granite at Bonnie's side. "Yeah, well, important dates and all that," he bit out.

Elena blinked, confused, until the lightbulb turned on. "Oh. _Oh_ , Bonnie, I— I'm so sorry. That was so insensitive. I didn't even connect the two dates."

"It's fine. Really." Bonnie smiled. "I didn't even want to do it, it feels a little maudlin, but Caroline felt like we needed it. A way to kind of put it all to rest, I think."

"Yeah, sure, that makes sense." Elena nodded quickly, fiddling with her fingers.

"Uncle Damon!" Lizzie cried from across the room. "We saved the car for you."

"Unclehood calls…" Damon unwrapped himself from Bonnie, dropped a kiss to her temple, and then asked, "You're okay here?"

"Yeah. Of course. Make sure you warn them you cheat."

He grinned. "Are you kidding? I'm the banker…" He walked off to join the girls, looking back at her twice, as if he still wasn't sure she could be trusted not to suddenly collapse.

Bonnie turned her attention back to Elena and cleared her throat. "So…"

"So."

"You caught a flight out or…?"

"Yeah. Last minute. And rented a car to drive the rest of the way."

Humming, she nodded.

The tension was building, stiff and uncomfortable, until Elena finally just burst. "Can we just, I don't know, skip the awkwardness and get to the point?" She stared at Bonnie searchingly. "I'm not mad. I get it. You and Damon, you make sense. In that way that things don't seem to make sense but actually do. You know?"

"Kind of."

"He's different with you. Healthier, I think. You bring out a different side of him. Or maybe just the real him." Elena shrugged. "I won't say it doesn't hurt. It— It _does_. He was supposed to my forever, but… I don't have forever. I have a normal, human life, and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with where I am and who I am. I mean, I'm working on me still, but I like who I'm becoming."

"Good." Bonnie nodded.

"Yeah, I think so." She smiled lightly. "Anyway, I just want you to know that I'm happy if you're happy… So, are you happy?"

Bonnie looked from Elena to Damon, sitting with Lizzie perched on one knee, Josie on his right, leaning against his shoulder, and Ben across from him, excited to play. Damon looked up and met her gaze, a grin pulling up one side of his mouth. Bonnie's heart shifted and then settled back into place.

"I am." She turned to Elena. "I really am."

"Okay. Then that's…" She let out a little sigh. "That's all that matters."

Relieved, Bonnie relaxed. "Come on. Caroline perfected her apple cider recipe."

"Ooh, sign me up."

Together, they crossed the room to the refreshments table, and Caroline came out to meet them. Reunited, the three women fell into a familiar rhythm, sharing food and stories and laughter.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

At some point, without Bonnie even quite realizing it, Damon had moved in. She wasn't against it. It was just one of those natural progressions. He spent most of his time at her place, so it was no surprise when he started taking up half of her closet and dresser space. As time went on, it became clear to her that he was there to stay. Through thick and thin, he was settling into life with a level of contentment she wasn't sure she'd ever seen in him. He ran Mystic Grill, fought off whatever poor, evil soul wandered into Mystic Falls, and always made it home.

It wasn't all perfect. They still bickered, especially when it came to her using her magic, but he was learning not to worry so much. Her magic was a part of her, it just needed to be taken care of. And she was doing that, every day.

Bonnie hummed sleepily, blinking her eyes open as she felt Damon's mouth sliding down the slope of her neck. "Don't you have work…?"

"I've got time." His hand skimmed down her side, pushing at the hip of her pajama pants, sliding them down her thighs.

Inhaling deeply, she stretched her body out, waking up a little more. "Keep this up and I can skip yoga."

He laughed and nipped at her shoulder. "Just trying to keep you on your toes, Bon-Bon." His fingers stroked up her inner thigh, teasing her skin.

Bonnie bit her lip and pressed herself back, the curve of her ass cradled against his lap. "That what this is?"

"Something like that." He slid his hand up her stomach and across her ribs, folding his fingers around one breast, kneading it.

Bonnie stuck her hand down between her thighs, teasing herself open. "Better than pancakes, I guess."

He nuzzled against her ear and kissed down her neck. "Remind me never to bring you breakfast in bed again."

She laughed, her head falling back, and Damon's teeth nicked her neck accidentally.

"Whoops." He reached up and brushed a bead of blood away with a thumb, tucking it between his lips for a taste. "Just as sweet as ever."

Her eyes fell to half-mast then and she looked back at him, searching his face a moment.

"What?" His fingers flexed, thumb running circles around her nipple.

"We've never… I mean, obviously, before, but…"

His brow furrowed. "You lost me."

"Blood." She turned herself over onto her back, and his hand slid into the valley between her breasts. "I know you get yours from the blood bank, but… I don't know. I guess I forgot that you might… like that…"

He blinked, and then his brows hiked. "Are you trying to ask me if I want to eat you?"

"History says you _always_ want to eat me…"

He smirked. "A valid point."

"I guess I'm just wondering if the blood aspect of things is something you miss about sex."

Humming, Damon stared down at her a long moment. And then he tugged her pajama top up and off her, tossing it aimlessly toward the laundry basket. He returned his hand to her stomach, dragging the tips of his fingers around in random motions, tickling her skin. He slid his hand higher, teasing across her ribs, and higher still, brushing along the hills of her breasts, circling a puckered nipple. Bending, he pressed a kiss to the top of one, stroking his tongue across it. And then he kissed a winding trail up her chest and neck, until he reached the cliff of her chin and teetered there, staring down at her. "I don't miss anything."

"Maybe that's the wrong wording." She stared at him searchingly. "What I mean is, I would be okay with it. I… I trust you." She reached up and drummed her fingers along the arch of his cheek. "So if you want—"

"Do _you_ want?"

Her face twisted up and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I'm curious. I want to try it. See if I like it."

He grinned slowly. "You'll like it."

"Yeah, okay, Casanova." She patted his chest. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Damon pressed a kiss to her chin. His hand slid down the center of her body, knuckles rubbing across her hip bone before they dragged along the top of her thigh and down. Bonnie raised a knee and opened her legs for him, stretching out as he took his time exploring. Damon had a way of making sure every nerve ending was lit up and blinking, completely aware of him and everywhere he touched, before he even got close to touching her where she wanted him.

"How long do we have before work?"

His face skimmed along the curve of her breast. "Long enough."

An incisor brushed against her nipple; she felt it tighten almost painfully. The simple _idea_ of it, of his teeth sinking into soft flesh, was making every inch of her skin come to life. Ribbons of energy pulsed through her. Her heart fluttering in her chest.

"The trick is making the pain and pleasure mix together. A little pain can feel good. A lot of pain takes you out of the moment. But if you time it right…" A finger ran across the center of her pussy, circled her clit, and then moved away, teasing her, working her up.

Bonnie's eyes fell closed. She rolled her hips forward, seeking out the pressure of his fingers, but they only grew lighter the more she moved into them. Her teeth scraped against her lip impatiently.

"Make sure all they can think about is how good they feel until all the want is _more_."

One of her hands drifted down to cup her other breast, fingers circling and rubbing her nipple as she spread her legs a little wider. Damon sunk a finger into her and curled it up, thrusting slowly.

"And when you're sure it's not going to pull them out of the moment… You go in slow." His tongue stroked along her breast, and a pinch followed. Bonnie's head felt full, her mind trying to focus on too many things at once, so it all just blurred together in one growing crescendo.

Damon's fingers picked up pace, his thumb carefully rubbing across her clit. She could feel warm liquid pooling atop her chest; her body grew light and heavy in the same breath. Her heart thudded in her ears; it hammered at her neck and chest and in her wrists. Every part of her coiled up and her breath caught. She floated in that distant white noise before, finally, she crashed. For a moment, Bonnie was energy. She was fragments into weightless pieces of fluid pleasure. Soundless, she fell back to earth in a rush, a heavy-limbed puddle of contented euphoria. The edges of her vision were a little fuzzy, and sound was slow to return to her ears.

Damon had moved, kneeling between her legs now. He leaned down, one hand planted on the bed, and caught her swollen lips in a kiss. She reached her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him in. His free hand slipped over the top of her breast and when they broke apart, he showed her the tips of his fingers, damp with blood. He licked them clean and stared down at her with heavy lidded eyes, mouth turned up in a smug smirk.

Bonnie leaned up, pressing her mouth to his, licking up the copper flavor that still lingered. When her head fell back to the pillows, he followed her down, and rested his chin atop hers. "So?"

She shrugged. "I might be persuaded to do it again." Her knee brushed against his side, leg hooking around his waist and tugging him closer. "These were new sheets though, so you're really gonna have to sell it."

Damon laughed. "I think I'm up to the challenge."

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow.

Nodding, he slid a hand down, squeezing her thigh. As he pushed inside her, her mouth fell open, and he nipped at her lower lip. "Yeah."

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Bonnie leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed. "Remind me again, what was wrong with the old bathroom?"

Damon was crouched down as he continued to pull up the laminate from the floor. He wiped an arm over his face and looked back at her. "The tub was too small."

"Uh-huh. You were feeling cramped, I get that. I was with you on getting a bigger tub, but you've overhauled _everything_. I'm pretty sure the toilet you picked out is more expensive than my car."

"Not quite. But it was a pretty penny… I figure, if I have to pull the toilet out anyway, go big or go home."

"You're pulling the toilet out?"

"I need to move it. We've got the standing shower to put in, so the toilet's gotta move."

"Standing shower…" She stared at him. "Do we have enough room in here for that?"

"We will when I move the toilet."

Bonnie sighed. "Fine. But once the bathroom's done—"

"Then I was planning on fixing the closet."

"What's wrong with the closet?"

"It's too small. Especially since you and Caroline have a standing shopping date. We need more room." He pushed up off the floor, tool belt hanging low on his hips. "Which reminds me… The room next door, I thought we could move the wall back. That'd give us some room for the walk-in closet. I don't want to get _rid_ of the room. It'll just be smaller, like an office or something."

"Oh, is that why you've been measuring in there?" She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to put bookshelves up?"

"I do." He nodded as he walked toward her. "In our new office. After I've built our walk-in closet."

"Mm-hmm." His hands slid over her hips and tugged her toward him. "Since when are you such a handyman?"

"Since I realized how hot you get when I wear plaid and fix things." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Bonnie laughed, her head falling back. "It's a good look."

"I know."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Caroline and Stefan were married in the spring. Damon was best man, Bonnie was maid of honor, and Josie and Lizzie were the flower girls. It was a small, intimate affair that was thrown in the backyard under a gauze of white lace and pink roses.

Bonnie danced with Damon, head pressed to his chest, watching Matt twirl the twins in the grass. Stefan and Caroline hadn't let go of each other, their hands constantly wound together.

"They look happy." Bonnie stared at them, whispering to each other, smiling and laughing. If she looked back on all of it, from the very beginning, it made sense. Like breadcrumbs left for a keen eye, those two were always going to end up together. She was glad they did. Glad that life eventually threw them all a bone and let them find some real and lasting happiness.

"Probably because they are. I hear marriage does that." Damon stroked a hand up Bonnie's back and gently squeezed the nape of her neck. "You got that wedding fever yet, Bon-Bon? Say the word, I'll peel any and all garters off your legs with my _teeth_."

Bonnie laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you would."

He dropped his chin down atop her head and hummed. "What's a guy got to do to get a life-long commitment out of you, huh?"

"Damon…" She looked up at him gently. "Sixty years. Sixty very human years."

"So?" He shrugged. "More than a lot of people get."

"Humans go grey and wrinkle and can't exactly bend like their twenty-year old selves once could."

"I've seen grandmas do yoga."

Her eyebrows arched. "We have to be realistic about this."

"I am." He stared at her seriously. "I'm not going anywhere. When your wrinkles have wrinkles, I'll love those too."

Her heart thumped in her chest. "Easy to say when I'm wrinkle-less."

"Hey…" He reached up and brushed her hair back from her shoulder, stroking a thumb along her cheek. "There's options. Maybe one day, you decide you wanna turn. Or we find another cure. I don't know. But I'm not throwing in the towel over one very distant, _potential_ ending… We'll figure something out." He leaned down then and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now come on, the newlyweds are gonna cut the cake and I want a good piece."

With a sigh, she let him change the subject, even if she knew, eventually, reality would come biting at their heels.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Bonnie let out a muffled noise, startled when the phone rang shrilly. She wiped her hands off on a tea towel and tapped her phone screen with a still damp hand. "Hi! Sorry, I wasn't watching the time. I was just doing the dishes."

"No worries." Stefan grinned on her screen, and then turned it a little to show Caroline laid out on the bed next to him, a blanket wrapped tight around her. When he turned it back to himself, he explained, "She passed out. Sightseeing wore her down. Are the girls still up?"

"Damon's putting them to bed. They're probably on their third story. He's a pushover like that."

Stefan chuckled. "Yeah, they've got him wrapped around their fingers."

Bonnie nodded agreeably. It was clear that 'unclehood' agreed with Damon. Bonnie was happy to see he was taking his responsibility seriously.

She climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked down the hall to the guest room, where the girls were staying for the next two weeks, while Caroline and Stefan were on their honeymoon.

"...crazy vampire hunter put a curse on the cunning witch, forcing her to lose her powers and become a hunter, too."

"But she _likes_ vampires!" Josie said, her eyes wide as she sat, shoulder to shoulder, with her sister.

"Yeah! Her best friends are vampires. That's not very nice." Lizzie shook her head solemnly. "I think the hunter should take it back."

"Well, see, she can't. _But_ , if the witch is strong enough, like say maybe she's got some serious feelings for a certain very cool vampire and doesn't really want to hurt him, she might snap out of it and _beat_ the curse!"

" _Cool!_ " the girls chorused.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Maybe we can pick this story up another night…"

"Aww…" Josie and Lizzie looked up at her disappointedly.

"I know, I know. On the bright side, someone wants to talk to you before bedtime." She waved her phone toward them cheerfully.

The girls lit up as they saw Stefan waving to them from the screen.

"Papa!" they cried, and jumped up from the bed to reach for the phone.

Damon left them to talk to his brother. He stood from the arm chair he'd been sitting in and made his way to the door, hooking an arm around Bonnie's waist.

She tipped her head back to see him better. "So I beat the hunter's curse for you, huh?"

"Hey, that story could be about _any_ cunning witch."

"Mm-hmm…"

"If it helps, you are the most cunning witch _I_ know."

Bonnie grinned, and shook her head. "Cute."

"Thank you." He smirked. "You pick out a movie yet? The munchkins are about five minutes away from passing out. As soon as Stefan lets them get back to bed, they'll be out like a light."

"I've got it narrowed down to two…"

"I'm listening."

If somebody had told eighteen-year-old Bonnie Bennett that she would one day settle into a happy life of domesticity, she wouldn't have believed them. There was just too much going on, too much darkness in her world. Now she couldn't imagine her life any other way, and she hoped it never changed.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Bonnie! Nice to see you." Doctor Julia Choi smiled warmly at the young woman as she entered the room, clipboard in hand. "How are you feeling? How's the reno going?"

"Good." Bonnie nodded. "We finished the renovations last week. The house looks pretty good. Different from what I grew up with, but I like it. It feels newer. I didn't have a lot to do with the actual work, but I had a lot of say in what was done and how it looks. I'm happy with."

"Glad to hear it. You've been taking it easy though?"

"Yes. I'm meditating every night and doing yoga in the mornings. I'm still pretty careful about my diet, but I'll be honest, I'm a girl that likes her bacon. More than usual lately. I think telling me I should limit myself made it that guilty pleasure."

Julia laughed. "Happens to the best of us. Have you been having any chest pains? Feeling out of breath? Trouble sleeping? Headaches? Anything like that stand out?"

"No. I've been sleeping more. But I started jogging last month, mostly because of the whole bacon thing, so I'm getting up earlier."

"Okay. So, I just want to get a read on your resting heartbeat and then we'll check your blood pressure. How's that sound?"

"Works for me."

"Great." Julia pressed two fingers down against Bonnie's wrist. "Just breathe normally, try to stay calm…" She kept her eye on her wristwatch and waited for a minute to pass. With a hum, she said, "One more time."

Bonnie paused, and looked up at her, worried.

"It's okay." She smiled reassuringly. "I just want to double check something. Breathe steadily."

With a nod, Bonnie concentrated on her breathing.

"Okay."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Not wrong. It's just… Your standing heart rate is usually pretty consistent. Around 70 beats a minute. You're coming in closer to 90."

" _Oh_." Bonnie shifted. "What does that mean?"

"A lot of things can contribute to increased heart rate. Stress, pregnancy—"

"Oh, I can't be pregnant. I mean I'm…" Bonnie paused, her brow furrowed.

Staring at her a moment, Julia raised an eyebrow. "When was your last period? Can you remember?"

"Well, it's been a little while… Before we started the reno, I think. And that was…" Her eyes widened. "Almost three months ago."

Julia smiled lightly. "Okay. So, it's an option. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We can run some tests, and you can always pick something up on the way home if you're really eager."

Bonnie was stunned. She looked up at Julia, a little dazed. "You don't understand. Damon… He can't have kids. He _shouldn't_ be able to have kids."

"There have been cases of men who appear sterile having children. It's rare, but it happens."

"Yeah," Bonnie murmured, but it was clear her mind was elsewhere.

"It's like I said. We don't know you're pregnant for sure, so let's not jump to conclusions. We'll do some tests and, if you are, well, we'll talk options."

Bonnie jumped a little. "Options?"

"I'm a cardiologist, so this isn't my speciality. But I have some recommendations on who you can turn to if you are pregnant. Whatever your choice, to keep it or to terminate, I'm here to support you. I'd also like to consult with any doctors going forward. With your heart condition, I'd like to be sure that we take it into consideration. We want to keep your stress levels low and keep an eye on how your heart is reacting to everything. All right?"

She nodded jerkily.

"Okay. Let's run through the rest of our usual tests and then we'll move on to finding out if you are, indeed, pregnant. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah."

"Great."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Bonnie left the hospital and went to the closest pharmacy she could find. She bought three pregnancy tests and six emergency candles. She peed on the pregnancy sticks in a gas station bathroom, popped them back into their boxes, and drove to the cemetery. The gas station hadn't carried the thick, pillar candles she usually used; rather, all they had were the tall, thin taper candles. She stuck them into the ground so they would stand up right, lit them with a wave of her hand, and promptly took a seat in the center.

The chant came out sharper than before, but the answer seemed much swifter. She opened her eyes to find Emily sitting in front of her once again, nearly see-through and just as pretty and, strangely, rather smug.

Bonnie dumped out the pregnancy tests from their boxes and grabbed up a random one. She already knew what it would say. " _Explain_."

Emily glanced at the stick and then returned her attention to Bonnie. "You are with child."

" _How?_ " She shook her head. "The only one I've been with since I got back is Damon. And he's—"

"A vampire. Incapable of producing offspring. And _yet_ , despite the fact that you are the sole surviving Bennett, you were adamant that you stay with that… _man_." She said 'man' like someone else might say 'creature.'

"Is that what this is?" Bonnie's brow furrowed. "A way to keep the Bennett line alive."

"I told you when you first visited, you are the last of us. The end of our legacy."

"So you forced a _pregnancy_ on me!?"

"We hoped you would produce an heir. When it occurred to us that the only possible father to this heir was Damon, we took steps to make him viable."

She shook her head, confused. "That's not possible."

"Damon stepped on hallowed ground. Our magic connected with the core of his."

"The child would be a hybrid. Half-vampire, half witch. Wouldn't it?"

"The vampire gene is passed through the blood. That's how others are turned. It's possible the child will only carry the genes and never trigger them, much like a werewolf might. We won't know until it's born."

"You can't do this," she bit out. "You can't _manipulate_ my life like this."

"We gave you life, Bonnie. Returned you to this world so you could continue the Bennett line."

"I thought I _was_ the Bennett line. Not that I was going to give _birth_ to it."

"You are, and you can. What you choose to do is up to you. We can't force you to keep it. We only made it possible for you and Damon to have children."

"Don't pretend like you didn't do this hoping I wouldn't get rid of it." Bonnie's heart clenched in her chest. "You talk about how the Bennetts have been used. How our family have been sacrificed for the greater good, over and over. But you're just like everybody else that's used us up. I'm just a tool, a chance to carry on the line. I'm not a person to you, am I?"

Emily frowned. "That's not true. We—"

"You don't know me!" she shouted. "None of you know me. You watch and you judge and you think you know who I am or how I feel, but you _don't_. My whole life, I've struggled to be good enough. For a mom that left me and a dad that was never there. I gave up my life, my Grams, my dreams, all to keep other people safe. I had no idea what do with these powers. So, I pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion all to live up to the great Bennett name. And the people that should be on my side, that should support me in what _I_ want, are just as manipulative as all the rest. I finally had what I wanted. I finally had a good life going. But you couldn't let it be. You couldn't just let me be happy."

Emily stared at her a long moment. "You're right."

Bonnie paused, surprised by the candid response.

"We were selfish. We let our fear of going unremembered interrupt the most important part of who we are. The Bennetts have only ever had each other to rely on, and perhaps that informed part of why we did what we did. As we saw it, you were alone out there, Bonnie. Our idea of family might be misguided, though. We didn't consider that you may already have one, blood related or not."

Scraping at her damp cheeks, Bonnie stared at Emily searchingly. "What do I do?"

Emily reached for her, and patted her hand gently. "Whatever is best for you."

Bonnie took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. "Okay…" She nodded. "Okay."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Bonnie found Damon at home, sitting in their library, his feet up on a foot stool and a book open in his lap.

"Hey," he greeted. Closing the book, he put it aside. "What'd Choi say?"

Sighing, long and loud, Bonnie crossed the room and climbed into Damon's lap, dropping her head down on his shoulder.

Frowning, he rubbed a hand over her back. "All right, you're worrying me… What happened?"

"You remember that peanut butter and grape sandwich I made the other night?"

"Yeah." His mouth screwed up. "Hard to forget."

"I'm pregnant."

Damon went still. "You're what?"

"I'm pregnant. And it's yours. Through witchy manipulation on my ancestor's part. They wanted a new batch of Bennetts and this was their way of doing it." She let out a laugh, verging on hysterical but not quite there.

He hummed. "You okay?"

"I'm…" She shook her head. "I'm scared. And angry. But also… a little excited."

"Excited?"

"Between you and Enzo, I think I just came to the conclusion kids were out of the picture. At least biologically. I mean, adoption was always an option down the line. There's nothing wrong with that. Lizzie and Josie aren't Stefan's, or even technically Caroline's, but they're an amazing family. And Tyler's a great dad to Ben. Biology has nothing to do with making a family, I know that. But I sat down in Dr. Choi's office today and she told me my heart rate was a little high, which freaked me out. She said it could be a few different things, one of which was pregnancy. And I thought _no_ , that's not even possible. And this little… I felt this _ache_ in the pit of my stomach, because I couldn't help but think about what it'd be like. A little girl or boy with your eyes and my skin and it just… It _stuck_ with me. And then she's saying we'll run some tests, and the next thing I know, I'm at a gas station, peeing on six pregnancy sticks, and then I'm in a cemetery, yelling at Emily Bennett that she had no right to manipulate me like that. Because I _am_ mad. It's not right and it isn't fair and they have no damn right to decide when or how or _if_ I have kids. That's not up to them. _Ever_. But at the same time, there's another part of me… This very persistent part that is just so damn _hopeful_. Because now there really can be a little boy or girl and they'll be _ours_." She dug her hand in against his side, fingers biting into his skin. "Is that crazy?"

"It's complicated." He rubbed her hip gently. "So, long story short… We're having a baby?"

Bonnie lifted her head to look at him, and her heart leapt at the cautiously hopeful look in his eyes, mixed in with a little fear. "Are we?"

"You tell me. You're the one that'd have to carry it for nine months. It's your body."

She took a deep breath. "I don't like the circumstances. I don't like the manipulation, emotional or physical."

He nodded.

"We're going to have research magical contraception spells later, because I'm not sure how long your ability to have children is going to last and if it's forever, then we need to be more careful."

"Okay."

"I'm scared." Her mouth twisted up. "I didn't exactly have the best role models, parent-wise. Grams tried, she was always there, but my mom left, and dad was always working, and… And I'm _scared_ that if we do this, I'm going to screw it up."

"So am I."

She nodded, her eyes burning. "But…"

He reached up, stroking her hair back from her face. "But?"

"But it's a baby. To _me_. It's a baby. _Our_ baby. And I… I think, together, we can do this, too."

Damon grinned slowly, his eyes lighting up. "A baby... Sounds like fun."

Bonnie laughed, overwhelmed and excited. "This is crazy."

"A little." He pulled her in and kissed her cheek, her lips, and then her shoulder. "Crazy's kind of our thing, though."

Nodding, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his.

"Hey, if it's a boy—"

"We're not naming him Clyde."

"Missed opportunity, Bon-Bon."

"I can live with that."

* * *

 **epilogue to follow**

* * *

 **note** : _i'm borrowing a laptop right now, which means i have to give it back and won't have it again until next week. that said, i will have it until tomorrow night and i do have the epilogue finished. so i can post it a lot earlier than i usually would, but it'd be great if i could get some reviews for this chapter before i add the epilogue. generally, if chapters are posted too close together, one doesn't get a whole lot of feedback, so please try to review this chapter._

 _thanks so much for reading!_

 **\- Lee | Fina** _  
_


	4. sixty

**chapter** **rating** : teen/pg-13  
 **warning(s)** : character death  
 **word count** : 10,450  
 **summary** : Three years ago, Bonnie Bennett died. After waking up in an unmarked grave, she returns to the land of the living with a whole lot of questions. Like how did she die? Who brought her back? Where is Damon? And how long until the cruel grip of Death comes for her again?

* * *

 **-EPILOGUE-**

 _Sixty Years Later_

Damon stared down at the grave in front of him, his mouth set in a thin line.

Nyla, his daughter, stood next to him, dressed in all black. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high puff, pretty curls falling across her forehead, framing a face that looked so much like her mother's, save for her bright blue eyes.

She squeezed his hand and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "It was a long-time coming."

"Still." Nyla leaned against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. "He was your friend."

"I prefer the term 'frenemies.' It's an ancient slang word you wouldn't know."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you guys might've bickered like enemies sometimes, but Sheriff Donovan was still your friend. Probably one of your closest."

"I plead the fifth."

"Uh-huh."

 **(+++)**

 _"Careful, Donovoan. You're about to break a hip."_

 _Matt rolled his eyes, and hopped down off the top of a fallen tree. He dusted his hand off on his jeans and leaned his shot gun back against his shoulder. At sixty-two, he wasn't exactly young, but he was still perfectly capable of hunting down whatever came into his town. With silver-streaked blond hair and a few well-earned wrinkles, he thought he looked pretty damn good for his age, all things considered. "I'm fine. Now where'd it go?"_

 _"Are you sure you should be out here?" Damon swept a long stick around, batting at random bushes and low-hanging branches. "I thought Brianna took up the 'town savior' mantle. It comes with the sheriff's badge, doesn't it?"_

 _"Bri's got her hands full chasing down regular criminals." His eyes caught on a squirrel running up the length of a tree. "You got here pretty quick. Wasn't sure you'd come."_

 _Damon shrugged. "Was getting bored at home. Don't get me wrong, the family is great. But I miss the chaos sometimes. Kind of liked hunting down the latest homicidal asshole."_

 _Matt hummed. "I get that. Me and Sasha thought about moving a few times, but… I don't know. I'm too used to it now. Can't imagine leaving."_

 _"Yeah? Even with those brittle bones of yours?"_

 _With a snort, Matt rolled his eyes. "I drink my milk."_

 _Damon laughed. "Yeah, well, you ever need back-up, feel free to call."_

 _Matt glanced at him, gave a short nod, and said, "I will."_

 _A skittish rabbit suddenly darted toward them, followed by a raccoon, and a frightened deer on their left._

 _Lowering his gun, Matt cocked it. "Looks like we caught up."_

 _Damon grinned. "I'll try to leave some for you." He darted off then, blurring into the woods._

 _With an exasperated sigh, Matt shook his head and chased after him._

 **(+++)**

Nyla leaned forward and laid a rose atop Matt's gravestone before tucking her hands away in the pockets of her long, black coat. "How's mom doing?"

"Coping. She got to say goodbye to him before he went. She says he found peace, so that helps."

"She didn't want to come today?"

Nyla took a look around the cemetery; a cluster of people were collected nearby, talking about their former sheriff with affection. Matt was well in the latter half of his eighties when he passed, following his wife, Sasha, and leaving behind three children and six grandchildren, all of whom were shaking hands and giving thanks to the townspeople who'd come out.

"You know your mom; she's worried people might recognize her whenever we come out this way." He shrugged, his mouth set in a concerned frown. "Besides, she's not a big fan of cemeteries. Spent too much time in them growing up."

Nyla hummed. "She has a point. All it takes is one person to pick up on it and we'd have a problem."

"It's all the yoga. It keeps her young." He grinned, and then walked ahead, pausing next to Brianna, Matt's eldest daughter.

Nyla watched as he hugged both of Matt's daughters and shook his middle son, David's hand, offering a few words about how Matt would be missed. Growing up, Nyla had always thought her dad had a frustrating way of being both dismissively sarcastic in words and earnestly loyal in actions. He and Matt had a funny friendship, where they rarely saw eye to eye but could always rely on each other. But then, that was kind of her dad's way. He was the same with her Uncle Stefan and Aunt Caroline. Over time, she realized it was a defense mechanism that he was still working on. But at his core, her father was a good man who loved deeply.

"Did he cry?"

Nyla startled and turned her head to find her mother next to her, wearing a black lace veil to cover her face. "Jesus, Mom…"

"He got a little weepy last night after a little too much bourbon." Bonnie pressed her lips flat. "It's one of those things you don't really get used to, I think. Probably why a lot of vampires try to stick to their own kind. Caring about humans always ends up hurting you in the end."

Nyla stared at her mother's profile a moment. According to her family, Bonnie hadn't aged a day since she was resurrected. Some hypothesized that it was the pregnancy that caused it, but they weren't sure. What they did know was that Bonnie was still very much alive and a witch; she just never looked older than twenty-five. She still had monthly check-ups with a cardiologist to make sure her heart was okay, but as far as medical science could tell, she was as healthy as a person could get. That didn't stop Damon from worrying, though.

"Do you regret it?" Nyla wondered. "Staying a part of Matt's life even after you guys moved away."

Bonnie turned to look at the gravestone and the mound of dirt that lay in front of it. "I knew Matt since I was a little girl… Through thick and thin. We didn't always agree. We had some pretty epic fights, actually. But… He was always there for me when I needed him. So no. Even though it hurts, and it really does, I wouldn't change it."

Nodding, Nyla reached out and took her mother's hand, folding their fingers together and squeezing. "Do you ever wish you were like him? A normal human with grey hair and wrinkles and all that stuff."

Bonnie smiled. "If I was, I'd have less time with _you_." She turned to look at Nyla searchingly. "What's up? You sound introspective."

"Funerals do that." She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just wondering what it must be like for you. Surrounded by vampires, and _half_ -vampires. It's gotta be a little scary. That maybe one day whatever's keeping you from aging will stop, or even that it won't, and you'll just, I don't know, live forever."

Bonnie hummed. "It did once. I was scared for a long time. About dying again. About being a mom. About everything I had and loved being taken away… But after a while, you realize living in fear isn't really living. I was lucky. I got another chance. I got to be at Caroline's wedding. I watched Josie and Lizzie grow up and have amazing kids of their own. I found your dad. And I had you."

"And my brothers."

"Yeah, they're pretty great, too." Bonnie bumped Nyla's hip with her own. "But you were my first. And I was completely _petrified_."

Nyla laughed. "Yeah? _You?_ "

"I wasn't the only one. Your dad played it cool at first, but he was a wreck in the delivery room. And such a worrywart. He never wanted you out of his sight. He practically duct taped you to his chest wherever he went."

She grinned. "I think he still would if I let him."

"He tried really hard with you. He never wanted to be like his dad. He wanted to be better. To give you someone you could always rely on."

"Well, he accomplished that. You both did."

"And he did get a little less clingy with Sebastian and Derrick."

Nyla's brows arched. "If you say so…"

"I said a _'little_.'"

Nyla was sixteen when her first brother, Sebastian, was born. She was also playing in a basketball game a town over when he entered the world.

 **(+++)**

 _Nyla high-fived her teammates, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. She jogged off the court to meet her dad, sitting at the bottom of the stands. He was wearing a jersey with her number on it, her gym bag at his feet. Nyla could count on three fingers how many times one or both of her parents had missed a game. She was lucky; her parents were always present in her life. Unfortunately, her mother couldn't get out of a class she was teaching at Whitmore, so it was only her dad there to watch her play._

 _Her excitement dimmed a little when she found her dad frowning down at his phone instead of congratulating her on her winning rim shot. If she had to name her biggest fan, it was him, so whatever happened, it must've been big._

 _"What's up?" she asked as she stopped just short of where he was sitting._

 _"Hey!" He stood and tried to paste on a grin. "Nice shot, Kid. Next game's the championship, right? I'm gonna have to reinforce a shelf in your room to hold that shiny trophy you've got coming."_

 _Nyla's gaze fell to his phone. "Nice try. What happened…?" Her heart squeezed. "Is it mom? Is she okay?"_

 _"She's fine."_

 _Nyla's lips pursed, unconvinced. "Dad, you only make that face when it's mom…"_

 _"Not true. I make it for you, too. Like that time you fell out of a tree and sprained your arm. Or when you took on a vampire on your own and I nearly had a stroke!"_

 _"I know you're trying to distract me." Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to tell me?"_

 _Damon sighed. "Look. Don't freak out, but… the baby came early."_

 _"What!?" Nyla's arms fell, heart jumping in her chest. "Is he okay? Is Mom?"_

 _"They're fine. Uncle Matt helped. Baby's healthy, mom is tired, but okay. Matt's checked them in at the closet hospital to get checked out, but everything looks good." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "Ny, seriously. Your mom's the strongest person I've ever met. And your little brother is half-Salvatore. We're a wily bunch."_

 _Nyla shook her head. "We should go. I want to see her._ Them _. I'll let my coach know and we can go now."_

 _"Hey, you should stay. Celebrate with your team."_

 _"Dad!" She stared at him seriously. "Family comes first."_

 _Damon paused a moment, and then grinned. "Yeah, it does. Go tell your coach, I'll grab your bag."_

 _Nodding, she ran off, hurriedly letting her coach know what happened and that she'd drive home with her dad before she ran back to where he was standing, her gym bag hanging over his shoulder. Damon held a hand out and, for a moment, Nyla felt like she was a little girl again, holding onto his hand for dear life. She reached out and took it, and together they left the gym and made their way out to the parking lot._

 _The drive back to Mystic Falls felt like it took forever. She turned music on for something to distract her, but it didn't help. Her knee bounced nervously and she gnawed on the edge of her thumbnail._

 _"Here's a good one…" Damon reached out and turned the dial on the stereo. "I used to sing this to you when you were a baby."_

 _She paused, and looked to the stereo. "Really? What's this from? The nineties?"_

 _"Eighties. And it's a classic." He started singing, air drumming on the steering wheel, and despite herself, she laughed._

 _For a moment, her worry abated, and all she could do was watch her dad turn into a total goofball. The way his face scrunched up as he was singing and how he turned the car from side to side, like it was dancing, too. It reminded her of when she was a little girl, standing on his feet as he danced her around the kitchen to Salt n' Pepa and Aerosmith._

 _When the song faded out, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "So?"_

 _"So, that song is ancient… But, it wasn't terrible."_

 _He grinned. And then a new song started, something a little more familiar to her, and he just smiled as she sang, rocking her shoulders to the beat._

 _The time seemed to tick by a little quicker then._

 _Forty minutes later, Nyla found herself running through a hospital, avoiding the chastising eyes of the nursing staff, searching out the room her mother was in. She was half-tempted to use a tracking spell before she spotted the right number on a door and abruptly swerved through it. The rubber bottoms of her sneakers sounded especially loud, slapping against the floor as she walked into the room to find her mother, awake, and cradling a baby in her arms._

 _"Mom!" Nyla breathed out a sigh of relief and crossed the room in a few quick strides. "You're okay."_

 _Bonnie looked up, her hair a little frizzy and her eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion, but her smile was wide and happy. "Hey," she said, quietly. "I'm fine. How was your game?"_

 _"We won." Damon circled the bed to take a seat on her opposite side, laying down next to her. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at their son, reaching out to stroke a hand over his soft head. "Couldn't wait, huh?"_

 _"He was impatient." Bonnie looked up at him, her face soft. "Reminds me of someone."_

 _Damon grinned, and pressed a kiss to her forehead._

 _Nyla crept a little closer, staring down at her little brother with wonder. "He's so small."_

 _"He is. But he's healthy. They checked him out when we got in and he's doing great. He was just eager to meet us." Bonnie looked up at her. "You want to hold him?"_

 _"Oh, uh, I don't know…" She shifted her feet awkwardly._

 _"Come on." Damon rolled himself off the bed and grabbed up a chair, carrying it around to the opposite side of the bed. He set it down next to Nyla and nodded for her to take a seat. When she did, he reached over, carefully picking the baby up and bringing it over to lay in Nyla's arms. He adjusted her so she was holding him right and nodded. "See? Easy."_

 _"Yeah, he says that now. But the first time he held you, he looked like he was holding a bomb." Bonnie rolled her eyes affectionately._

 _"And now I'm an_ expert _." He smirked, and took a seat on the edge of the hospital bed, looking down at his two children. "We agreed on Sebastian, right?" he asked Bonnie._

 _She nodded. "Sebastian Matthew Bennett-Salvatore."_

 _Nyla half-smiled down at him. "Hey, Bas… I'm your big sister."_

 _Bastian yawned in response, smacking his little lips, and Nyla fell in love immediately._

 **(+++)**

Ten years later, while she was away in New York, attending law school, her parents welcomed their third, and last, child, Derrick. Well into her twenties by that time, Nyla didn't get to spend quite as much time with Derrick as he was growing up, but that didn't make them any less close.

 **(+++)**

 _It was almost eleven o'clock at night and Nyla was well into her latest case when she noticed the blinking message in the corner, telling her she had a video call. Seeing her youngest brother's name, she tapped on it, and smiled as the call connected. "Hey!"_

 _Derrick nodded, his eyebrow ticking up. "Hey. Are you busy?"_

 _She pushed her work aside and shook her head. "No. What's up?"_

 _He sighed, and ran a hand over his curly hair, tugging at it in a way she'd learned meant he was frustrated. "Me and dad are fighting."_

 _"Yeah? What about?"_

 _He looked away and frowned at the wall. "I might've borrowed the car… without telling him… again."_

 _"Der…" She sighed, shaking her head._

 _"I know." He flopped back against his computer chair, shoulders slumped. "Mom says I have no impulse control and that I get it from him." He rolled his eyes. "Which is a joke, because dad schedules_ everything _."_

 _Nyla hummed. "He didn't always. I mean, all you have to do is ask Uncle Stefan. Dad was kind of a badass… And also maybe a little unhinged for a while. Anyway, he only really got his stuff together after mom."_

 _"And you."_

 _She frowned. "What do you mean?"_

 _"I mean, you got the good years. You and Bas got dad when he was at his best. I just get his disappointed looks. Like I'm not living up to the legacy or something. You have your own law firm and Bas is like five minutes away from being a college professor."_

 _Nyla smiled at him sympathetically. "Dad loves you, Der. You just remind him of himself. He's worried you'll follow in his footsteps."_

 _"And what? Marry an awesome lady and have kids?"_

 _"Self-destruct and take a few lives with you. You're half-vampire, and sometimes I think you take after that more than you do your witch side."_

 _"Warlock," he corrected. "And I've never killed anyone. I'm careful when I feed."_

 _"I know you are. Dad's just a worrier. He wants you to be safe."_

 _Groaning, Derrick turned his computer chair from side to side. "I'm not a kid."_

 _"You are. You're fifteen… I know you just want his attention, but this isn't the way to do it. Talk to him. Tell him why you're borrowing his car."_

 _"We don't have anything to talk about. You and Bas were into sports. I don't have that."_

 _"Dad loved sports because we did. He loves books and poetry and music, too. Ask him what his favorite movie is or read his favorite book. The point is, he's there, and he wants to be a part of your life. You don't need to steal his car to get him to see you."_

 _With a long sigh, he nodded. "Yeah, okay…"_

 _"So you'll talk to him?"_

 _He frowned. "I'll try."_

 _"Good." She stared at him searchingly. "You wanna talk about anything else?"_

 _He shrugged. "I don't know."_

 _"How's school going? What'd you get on the math test?"_

 _His mouth hitched up faintly. "An A."_

 _She grinned. "See! I knew you would. Have you thought about what I said? Architecture could be good for you."_

 _"Yeah. Maybe… I'll think about it."_

 _"What about English? Did you ever read that book?"_

 _His eyes lit up, and he sat forward in his chair, reaching across his desk to grab out the book. She could see the colored page markers that lined the sides and smiled. It wasn't long before he trailed off into a long diatribe about the book and what he liked or didn't like about it. Nyla was happy to put her own work off for a while and instead spend it with her baby brother._

 **(+++)**

Bonnie frowned. "Speaking of your brothers, where are they?"

"Bas is setting up the celebration of life at the boarding house. And Derrick's… I want to say he's comforting Amelia, but it's probably half comfort, half hitting on her."

Amelia was Matt's youngest daughter, who he'd had a little later in life, so she was only thirty-six, but still looked a good ten years older than the forever young looking Derrick Bennett-Salvatore.

"He's his father's son."

"Who is?" Damon appeared between them, an arm wrapping around Bonnie's waist and Nyla's shoulders.

"Derrick."

Damon grinned. "Kid needs to pick his game up. I wore you down a lot quicker."

"The circumstances were different." Bonnie leaned into his side. "Anyway, this isn't the place for that."

"Why not? Kid lost her dad, she needs a little fun to brighten her back up. Derrick will get her laughing, take the edge off a bit." He squeezed Bonnie's hip. "Which reminds me, I'm loving the veil. Very dramatic."

"Shut up." She reached up to fiddle with it, eyes darting around nervously. "I just didn't want to be recognized. I grew up with a lot of these people."

"Yeah, and now most of them are too senile to remember what _they_ looked like in their glory days, never mind what you looked like."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Your sensitivity is mind-boggling."

"Thanks. Hey, why don't we move this little shindig to the boarding house? Lizzie called. She said everything's set up. You think Caroline's wearing one of these veils, too? People are gonna start to talk if you wear it inside."

"I'll figure something out."

Damon shrugged and then led them down to where the cars were parked. Nyla paused to give them each a hug and promised to meet them at the boarding house before she walked to her own car. Taking a seat behind the wheel, she looked over at her side mirror to watch her parents walk down the road together. Damon's hand rubbed up and down Bonnie's back while they walked, shoulder to shoulder. Sixty years together and they were still just as in love as Nyla remembered them being when she was a kid.

Her gaze wandered back out to the cemetery, where Matt's family stood clustered together. As much as she loved and missed her uncle, a small part of her was grateful that it wasn't her family. That somehow, despite the odds, her mother still lived. Young and healthy, with who knew how many lifetimes ahead of her, she would be there, walking the earth, shoulder to shoulder with her husband. A loving, calming force in her children's lives, a supportive ear to her friends, and a voice of reason for her sometimes completely insane husband. But then, her mom could be a little crazy, too. The stories she could tell, about the people she'd met, fought, and survived, were more than just shock and awe. Bonnie Bennett-Salvatore was a fighter, and she deserved all sixty years she'd been given, and a thousand more on top of it. As far as Nyla was concerned, her mother deserved an eternity, and she had a feeling she might just get it.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

"It's weird, right?" Caroline glanced at Bonnie as they sat next to each other, holding hands on a bench in the garden behind the boarding house. Her daughter Lizzie lived there now. Caroline and Stefan had moved on before town gossip could turn to how young they always looked. "Matt's gone. He's… He's really _gone_."

"Yeah." Bonnie stared out at the grass. "I thought it'd get easier. I mean, it's been almost five years since Elena. That wasn't easy, but…"

"But we didn't see her as much. Matt was _always_ there. Elena had her own life. I'm not holding it against her. I get why she kept her distance. I just… I don't know. With Matt, you always knew that if you needed him, he'd be there. And now…" Caroline's eyes blurred with tears. "It's life, right? We live, we die, except…"

"Except we don't. Not really. We're here and, barring any unexpected attack that we aren't prepared for, we always will be." Bonnie squeezed her hand. "I get it."

Caroline shifted on her seat to see her better. "I used to beg him to let me turn him. The first time I saw gray in his hair I thought 'oh God, I'm gonna lose him one day.' And I just… I panicked. I wasn't ready. And now he's gone and I look at Lizzie and Josie and their kids and… I don't know how I'll do it. I don't know how I can let go of them one day."

Bonnie said nothing. It wasn't as if she could say she shared the same fear. She always worried her kids would get hurt in some unfixable way. There was so much about them that was human. They skinned knees and broke bones and scared the life out of her a few thousand times. But eventually, the natural progression of life and death just stopped affecting them. Their vampire genes triggered and the aging process slowed down, eventually stopping completely. That half of them was always there. They didn't need blood as much or as often as Damon, but they still needed it. They had no negative reaction to the sun, though she did charm jewellery for them, just in case it came on abruptly. And they had all the upsides to it; the speed, strength, and enhanced senses kicked in during their mid- to late-teens. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Now, despite her grief, Bonnie was relieved. Where Caroline had to worry about her girls and kept a sad eye on grey hair and wrinkles, Bonnie's children had stopped aging at twenty-five, forever young. As witches, Josie and Lizzie would likely live longer than the average human, but the countdown was still very much present. And in future, Bonnie knew she would be attending their funerals too, mourning their loss and holding Caroline through her grief.

It was a long few minutes before Caroline leaned over and dropped her head to Bonnie's shoulder. "Do you think he's at peace?"

"Yeah, I do. He lived a great life, Care. The beginning was rough, but he survived and he built an amazing family and career for himself."

"Yeah," she whispered thickly. "I just feel a little emptier without him around, you know?"

Bonnie did know. She held Caroline's hand a little tighter and nodded.

They didn't say much after that, they just sat together, holding each other up, and were grateful that they, at least, would have each other for a long time to come.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Damon found Stefan in his old bedroom, looking through books that hadn't seen a duster in a few years.

"Hiding?"

Stefan looked up and half-smiled. "No. Just… letting them grieve. Figured they needed some space."

Damon hummed, and crossed to a chair. He slumped down into it. "It's weird, right? Time feels different when you can't see it happening to the people around you… Last time I came out here, I was chasing down a rogue witch with Brianna. Matt wasn't up to the job anymore, but Bri's a pretty good fighter."

"Big praise coming from you."

He shrugged. Stacking his hands on his stomach, he looked up at his brother. "How's Caroline?"

"Things like this get her worried about the girls. They're not as young as they used to be. Sixty years goes by quick. Won't be that long before we're back here, burying them…" His lips flattened. "I know it's just the way things are, and I'd never take someone's choice away, but sometimes I look at them, and I can't imagine not having them in my life."

Damon nodded. "I know the feeling."

Stefan looked over at him, and nodded. "You want a drink?"

"God, _yes_."

With a grin, Stefan crossed to another bookshelf, pulled out a false piece, and retrieved a bottle of bourbon and a couple of glasses.

Damon took the glass he was offered and swirled it around.

Stefan raised his own. "To Matt."

Damon tipped his in cheers. "To Matt."

* * *

 **…**

* * *

"Mom?"

Bonnie looked up from the platter of snacks she was picking at while she hid in the kitchen. She was relieved to see it wasn't Caroline, who would no doubt keep her from eating anything tasty and push a plate of vegetables and dip in front of her. Instead, Sebastian was near the door, a gentle smile turning up the corner of his mouth, his green eyes soft with sympathy. He was the quieter of her two sons; a soft-spoken man that only raised his voice when he was on a football field, calling plays. The opposite of his younger, more rebellious brother, who fell on the more artistic side of things, preferring a guitar or a sketch book to any sports ball.

Sebastian was all defined lines, tall with broad shoulders and a handsome face that shared his father's jaw line and high cheek bones.

"Hey." She dusted her hands off and sat back. "Everything looks really nice. Thank you for putting it together."

"Aunt Caroline did a lot of it. Or told us what to do anyway." He crossed to the island to take a seat on the stool next to her. "I'm sorry about Uncle Matt. I know he was really important to you."

"He was." She rubbed her hand over his shoulder. "You know, he delivered you… I was on my way home after teaching an occult class at Whitmore. You were early, so I thought it was just Braxton Hicks. I had to pull over though, the pain was just… _overwhelming_. I called your dad, but he was out of town. Nyla had this big basketball game she was playing in and we wanted at least one of us to be there to watch it. It was only an overnight thing and we weren't expecting you to come early, so we didn't think it was a big deal."

"Because Nyla was right on time."

Bonnie smiled. "She was. But _you_ … You were impatient. Like your dad."

He chuckled.

"So, I pulled over on the side of the road and called Matt. He turned the siren on and raced out to meet me on the highway."

 **(+++)**

 _"Bonnie!" Matt was parked sideways in the middle of the road. He left the door of his truck open as he leapt out and crossed to meet her._

 _She was half out of her SUV, bent over, trying to breath._

 _"Hey, I'm here. What do you need?"_

 _"Ohhh God…" She pushed on her knees and looked up at him, her face stricken with pain. "An epidural would be great. Any chance you brought one?"_

 _He smiled and shook his head. "I'm all out."_

 _"How about your hand? Mind if I break that?"_

 _He held it out for her, grimacing as her fingers wrapped around it tightly. "Do your worst."_

 _She huffed out a laugh and squeezed down as another wave of pain flooded her. "He's coming. I can feel it. Matt, he's too early!"_

 _"Okay. Just breathe."_

 _"I can't. I can't do this. He's not supposed to be here for another few weeks. We're not done the nursery. Damon's still trying to convince me we need a bigger house. I am not moving while I'm still waddling!"_

 _"You've got a cute waddle, Bon."_

 _"Not the point." She shook her head, damp curls clinging to her face and neck. "I don't want to move. I love my house. I grew up in that house. I raised my daughter there. I mark her height every year in the same place my dad used to mark mine. There's a spoke missing on the stairwell from where Nyla got her head stuck and Damon panicked and just tore it right out. There's a dent on the hall in Nyla's room because she's thrown her basketball at it so many times. That's my home, Matt, and I want to bring my son there. I want to put him in the same crib in the same room that I put Nyla in sixteen years ago. And I want to do that three weeks from now, because this boy is not supposed to be here yet."_

 _"Yeah, well, I don't think he got the message on that one." He knelt to better catch her eye. "Listen to me, okay? This little guy is coming and we can't stop it. I need you to trust me. I need to move you 'cause we need some space."_

 _Bonnie blew air out between her lips and stared at him, brow furrowed. "I don't know…"_

 _"I will get you through this, I promise."_

 _Swallowing down her fears, Bonnie nodded._

 _She let Matt lead her over to his truck, where he popped open the back and helped her climb in. The seats were pushed up, giving her room to lay down. It took some maneuvering, but eventually, she was laid out, legs propped up, duffle back propping up her back, and not a whole lot to cover any modesty she might have left._

 _"Nyla didn't come this fast," she panted. "She was so stubborn. She took hours."_

 _"I'm thinking this guy's gonna be more like minutes."_

 _"What!?"_

 _"Just breathe, Bonnie. Focus on that, okay?"_

 _"He's not ready. He needs more time."_

 _"We don't have any more time. It's now or never. When I say push, I need you to push. Okay?"_

 _Gritting her teeth, Bonnie nodded._

 _Matt was right. Sebastian was born in a matter of minutes. And he came into the world_ screaming _._

 _Matt let out a strangled laugh and grabbed up his jacket, marked with Sheriff along the back. He wrapped Sebastian in it and cradled him gently. "Hey, Little Guy… You're okay. Things are probably a little scary right now, but don't worry. You've got a good group of people looking out for you, starting with your mom… Yeah… There you go." He handed Sebastian over to Bonnie and grinned as she cried, rubbing her fingers over his soft head. "See? What'd I tell you?"_

 _Bonnie looked up at him, tears glinting in her eyes. "Thank you."_

 _He nodded. "Any time."_

 **(+++)**

"You never told me that story."

"I've got a lot of them." Bonnie smiled at her son. "A lot about you and Nyla and Derrick, about Matt and Caroline and Stefan, and even more about your dad."

"Yeah, but dad likes talking about that kind of stuff. He'd make all your adventures into stories when we were kids."

"Yeah, the cunning witch and the handsome vampire, right?"

Sebastian laughed. "Always."

Bonnie nodded.

The kitchen door swung open then and Stefan walked inside. "Hey… You guys hiding out?"

"A little. How's the party going?"

"It's winding down. Mostly just close family now." He walked around to take a seat on Bonnie's other side. "What are we talking about?"

"Stories. I told Sebastian about when Matt helped deliver him."

"Oh yeah? What about the time you and Matt took out a nest of ghouls living under Wickery Bridge?"

Sebastian smiled and shook his head. "I don't know that one."

"It's a good one."

Bonnie's nose scrunched up. "Still a little bitter about that one."

"It's been forty years."

"Did _you_ have to put stinky ointment all over your body for two weeks straight?" Her brows hiked. "No! I didn't think so."

Stefan ducked his head as he laughed, grinning as she slapped his shoulder. "Okay, you're right.

"Thank you."

To Sebastian he said, "Anyway, a better story was when she took on a gang of baby vampires when she was seven months pregnant. Not by choice, obviously. Mostly just circumstance that time. Do you know that one?"

Sebastian shook his head.

Stefan looked to Bonnie, who rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Okay, so it was way back when she was pregnant with Nyla, and Bonnie was, well, let's just say she wasn't in the best mood."

"Two words…" Bonnie raised two fingers and looked between them. "French. Vanilla."

 **(+++)**

 _Bonnie was just trying to get some late-night grocery shopping. As in, she had a craving for bacon and ice cream that would not leave her alone and Damon was busy at Mystic Grill. Truth be told, she might not have even told him about her craving. He was a little… overprotective since he'd found out about the baby. He started baby-proofing basically the same hour she showed him the six pregnancy tests she had stashed in her purse. And he'd been on a safety kick ever since. She loved him, she loved the enthusiasm too, but she didn't see the big deal. He had work, she had feet, and she just wanted to feed that nagging hunger._

 _It wasn't a treat she could share with Caroline either, so she couldn't just call her up out of the blue and ask her to go to the store, not if bacon was involved, and it was vital to the process. Bonnie's latest pregnancy snack consisted of putting bacon in the oven until it was perfect and then using it as a serving spoon to scoop out and eat her ice cream. French Vanilla was the best, but she'd tried it with a few others. Just to be sure, she'd also picked up strawberry, orange creamsicle, and cookie dough._

 _Unfortunately, in the process of picking up said treat, she'd noticed a few other things she'd needed, which was how she walked out of the 24-hour supermarket with four bags, two weighing down each hand. The worst part wasn't even the waddling, or the fact that she'd had to put up with the cashier's amused and somewhat pitying smile. No, it was the fact that her feet felt two sizes two big for her running shoes. She'd given up her favorite boots already. The only thing that felt good these days were the ugliest orthopedic shoes she could find in the store. Caroline couldn't even look at them. But they worked._ Usually _. Tonight, they were doing her no favors. Which meant, despite the fact that she was in possession of her favorite midnight snack, she was beyond cranky._

 _Bonnie used the button on her keychain to unlock her car from a distance, the lights flashing and a small beep sounding to let her know it was ready. She was halfway to her car when she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. Frowning, she turned her head, but there was nothing to be seen. Ready to chalk it up to a wonky street lamp, she kept going, but then she saw it again, on her opposite side._

 _Bonnie stopped, her mouth flattening, and turned her head to take another look around. This late at night, the only other vehicles in the parking lot were the few people still working inside, which meant there was a whole lot of dark, empty space around her. A shiver ran down her back; a prickle of awareness making her skin warm and then cool in rapid fashion._

 _A part of her wanted to run; race to the car, lock the doors, get home. Another part of her was less scared and more pissed. Who the hell thought it was okay to sneak up on, and possibly attack, a noticeably pregnant person?_

 _A voice, that sounded suspiciously like Damon, told her not to risk it. Whoever it was, they would deal with it later. She could call Matt from the car and have him check it out. So far as she knew, there were no recent threats they needed to be aware of. So either she was seeing things or someone unfamiliar to them had swept into town._

 _Feet screaming at her, Bonnie started walking again, eager to just get home and get her bacon in the oven._

 _She made it three more steps before a rush of air went by her left, and the two bags she was holding were suddenly on the ground, the plastic sheared apart._

 _Bonnie looked down to find an overturned bucket of ice cream spilling across the pavement. And she saw_ red _._

 _"Okay." Putting her hand to her hip, she turned her head, eyes narrowed. "Cut the dramatics, asshole. That was the last container of French Vanilla. That was my favorite!"_

 _Eerie laughter broke out behind her, and Bonnie turned to see three vampires walking toward her, smirking. The one in the center was lanky, with shaggy brown hair and cold grey eyes. He was wearing biker boots and an over-sized leather jacket. Frankly, judging by how young and overconfident he was, she'd put her money on it being pleather._

 _A girl stood just to his left, seemingly no older than sixteen, with blonde hair tied in a side braid and winged green eyeliner. She eyed Bonnie's stomach meaningfully as she said, "Not sure you really needed it, honey."_

 _Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Oh, I needed it. I didn't drag my pregnant ass out of a perfectly comfortable bed to waddle down here and_ not _walk away with ice cream."_

 _"Guess we could've saved you some money if we got here earlier." Another guy, not much taller than Bonnie, grinned at her, showing off his fangs._

 _"Mm-hmm." Bonnie pulled her phone out from the pocket of the hoodie she was wearing, thumbed through her text messages, and paused on the group chat she had between both Damon and Matt. "Hey, question, have you met our local sheriff yet? He's something of a vampire enthusiast."_

 _The three kids – and that was what they were, barely out of their teens and certainly acting like it—looked at each other, confused by her reaction._

 _Bonnie typed out where she was, with the addition of_ 'pick up and possible disposal. Haven't decided yet.' _Sending it, she returned her attention to them. "Listen, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here. And really, that's a favor, because the fact that you think it's okay to harass anyone, let alone someone that's pregnant, I mean, that's going too far. Sure, there's a need to feed, but there are limits. I don't know if you flipped your switch or you just think this is okay, but trust me, this is going to be a wake-up call."_

 _"Yawn. I'm tired of this bitch already," the girl said. "Can we just eat her?"_

 _Bonnie's eyes narrowed. Her mouth curled up slowly, in a humorless, sharp smile, and then she waved a hand._

 _With a shriek of pain, the girl fell to her knees, gripping her head tightly, blood seeping from her eyes and her nose. Watching her struggle for a beat, Bonnie then turned her attention to the two startled boys._

 _"Did you know witches were even stronger when they were pregnant? It's this funny phenomena where they take on the power of their unborn child, caring for it, building on it, so that when their child is born, it can be passed on to them. Personally…" She started walking toward them, grocery bags swinging at her side. "I think it's a protective measure. Mother nature lending a hand, you know? Either way, I was pretty powerful before I was pregnant. I could tell you stories about taking on Original Vampires and ancient hunters and a few resurrections. So yeah, pre-pregnancy? Definitely powerful. But during pregnancy…" She nodded, grinning. "This kid is going to be strong. Awe-inspiring even. Mix those two together and…"_

 _When the girl's crying got to be too much, Bonnie turned her wrist, forcing the girl's head to abruptly twist, her neck snapped. Quiet filled the empty parking lot then._

 _"Let's just say, you two are in some_ serious _trouble here."_

 _The shorter boy held his hands out defensively. "Wait. Please. It was a mistake. We didn't know you were a witch."_

 _"And that makes it okay?" Bonnie threw her arm out._

 _The man sailed through the air like a rope had wrapped him around his center and plucked him off the ground. He crashed against the brick wall of the supermarket and fell to the pavement in a heap, unconscious._

 _She turned her gaze on the last boy then, who didn't look so confident now that she'd dealt with the others. "I was weak, right? That's why you attacked. You saw some poor little pregnant woman and thought she'd be the perfect victim. Can't run, scared to fight just in case it hurt the baby. Easy mark."_

 _He stared at her moment, and then nodded, veins rippling across his cheeks. "Yeah. Something like that."_

 _"Not so weak now, am I?" She thrust her arm out and the man stumbled, reaching for his throat as an invisible force began to choke him, the pressure caving in each side of his neck. "We have a catch and release policy around here, when people deserve it. I'm not biased to most vampires. But I make exceptions when I think it warrants it. And you…" She shook her head. "I'm not seeing much to save here."_

 _Falling to his knees, he clawed at his neck, staring up at her from scared, bulging eyes. "P-Please."_

 _Bonnie pursed her lips and continued to glare down at him. Finally, she jerked her wrist, and he fell sideways, neck snapped._

 _Headlights flashed across the pavement in front of her then, and Bonnie turned to see a Sheriff's truck pulling up. Matt jumped out, gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. "You okay?"_

 _Bonnie frowned. "I dropped my ice cream."_

 _He blinked at her, and then let out a snort. "Seriously?"_

 _"That was the last of the French Vanilla, Matt." She pointed back at the melting ice cream. "That one tastes the best—"_

 _"With bacon, I know." He shook his head and sighed. "I have some at home, all right? I'll bring it over after I clean this up."_

 _Bonnie looked back at the two bodies in front of her, and further head, to the third. "They're not dead. Just out of commission."_

 _He nodded. "I've got vervain in the truck. I'll call Damon. We'll figure something out."_

 _With a sigh, she turned on her heel and walked back to the mess on the ground, gathering up what was salvageable of her groceries and adding it to the other two bags. "Okay. I'm heading home. Let me know how it goes."_

 _"I will. And hey…" He looked over at her. "Nice work here."_

 _Bonnie grinned. "Anytime, Sheriff."_

 _With that, Bonnie made her way to her car and headed home. She'd well-earned her bacon and ice cream treat._

 **(+++)**

Stefan grinned, nodding to his nephew, who turned wide eyes on his mother.

Bonnie shrugged. "Cravings when you're pregnant are no joke."

With a laugh, Sebastian shook his head, and then passed her a plate of bacon-wrapped scallops.

Bonnie brightened, and grabbed one up happily. She winked at him as she popped it in her mouth.

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Damon stood near the drink cart, watching as Amelia Donovan sighed, rolled her eyes at Derrick, and walked off, leaving him to stare after her in befuddled longing.

His youngest son was good looking; curse of the Salvatores, Damon figured. Derrick was average height with narrow shoulders, a sculpted face, and warm green eyes. But for all that he was handsome, his emotional maturity was a little on the underdeveloped side. He'd struggled a lot more than Damon's first two kids, trying so hard to carve out a unique place for himself in the family, always wondering where he fit. Truthfully, Damon thought he took after himself a little too much. Considering his own difficulties throughout life, he felt for the kid, because he knew first hand that path was a hard one.

Damon crossed the room to meet him, tipping his head in the direction Amelia had left in. "Far be it for me to judge, but you might be coming on a little strong, Kid."

Derrick frowned. "Because it's a funeral or just in general?"

" _Both_." Damon handed him a glass of bourbon. "You and Amelia have known each other your whole lives. You'll get there if you're meant to."

"Easy for you to say, you married mom at like twenty-five."

"Twenty-eight for her, and I was over a hundred and eighty years old, thank you very much. I had to wait a long damn time for her."

Derrick rolled his eyes. "Whatever. The point is, you and mom have been together for like a century. Your advice is a little outdated."

"I take offense to that. Before your mom, I was a ladies man… Kind of." He shrugged. "There was your Aunt Elena for a while there."

" _Ew_."

"But before that, definitely a ladies man."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "If you say so..."

"You know, sometimes I forget you're thirty-four, because you still act like that rebellious fourteen-year-old who kept taking my car out for a joy ride."

Derrick smirked. "You shouldn't have such a beautiful car if you're not going to enjoy it."

"I do enjoy it. Frequently. With your mother."

"Gross." Derrick glared at him.

"She's very bendy for eighty-five years old…" He tipped his head thoughtfully. "Yoga does wonders."

"Okay, stop."

"You have to get creative in cars with such small seats, so—"

"All right, I'm sorry. I won't be such a dick."

"That's all I ask."

Derrick sighed, his shoulders hunched and his mouth pressed in a frown.

Nostalgic, Damon's mind wandered to some twenty years ago.

 **(+++)**

 _Derrick was fourteen the first time he borrowed Damon's car without asking. Despite how much trouble he got in, he'd still done it a handful of times after. A year later, Damon was still trying to figure out how, exactly, to nip that particular rebellion in the ass._

 _Sitting at his desk with the doors to his office firmly closed, he glared tiredly at the open books spread out in front of him. The figures were all blurring together and he was regretting putting it off until this late. His latest bar wasn't the Mystic Grill; in fact, it was a far cry from that first hometown endeavor. They'd pulled up stakes and moved twice already, setting down roots just before Derrick started school so he'd have somewhere to grow up without the suspicious curiosity of the rest of the town. Eventually, around the time he finished high school, they'd end up moving again. But for now, Damon had a business to worry about._

 _Usually, he would've called it quits already. He'd already spent three hours on this and it was long past time for him to climb into bed and pass out next to Bonnie. It was almost one in the morning and he wasn't looking forward to having to drag his tired ass out of bed at six tomorrow. But the books needed to get done first. Especially since he was taking the weekend off to spend some quality time with his family. It was Stefan's birthday, which meant Caroline was having a party and she'd_ demanded _the presence of the entire family. Nyla and Sebastian were flying in and they were all gathering at the old boarding house. Damon was looking forward to it. Any chance to get all of his kids in one place worked for him._

 _A knock sounded at the door then, and Damon looked up, rubbing a hand over his face. He frowned, double-checked the clock, and then called out, "Yeah?"_

 _The door popped open slowly, and Derrick ducked inside, gaze on the floor, his shoulders stiff. It was exactly how he always looked when he got into trouble for something. Kindergarten, when he glued his own mouth shut ("He bet me five bucks."). Third grade, when he popped a kid in the mouth for making fun of his hair ("They kept touching it, dad!"). Sixth grade, when he released all the frogs from the science lab ("It was a jail break, and I'd do it again."). And last year, when he stole Damon's car for the first time ("I just wanted to see how it'd feel.")._

 _Damon felt a headache coming on just looking at his son's somehow dejected and simultaneously defensive figure. "Okay. What'd you do?"_

 _Derrick's mouth set in a line. "Who says I did anything?"_

 _He raised an eyebrow. "Did you?"_

 _"Yeah. But why do you have to say it like that? Like you expect me to screw up."_

 _"Der, this is my patient face." He pointed at himself and leaned back in his chair. "It looks a lot like my impatient face. Because they're the same face."_

 _Derrick rolled his eyes. "I noticed."_

 _"So tell my patient face what you did, and please don't say it has anything to do with my car."_

 _With a grimace, he shrugged, and turned his gaze to a shelf covered in various family pictures. Bonnie was a camera fiend. Damon swore she got a picture of just about everything that ever happened. And when it came to their kids, their great accomplishments littered every available surface of their house. In his office alone, he had at least ten picture frames spread out. Nyla holding a championship trophy for basketball. Sebastian at his first pee-wee football game. Nyla graduating from law school. Sebastian teaching English to kids in a small village on the other side of the world. And there in the middle, Derrick with a 2nd Place ribbon for his fifth-grade spelling bee. Derrick beaming at the camera, missing three teeth and holding his first guitar._

 _"You and Uncle Stefan were really into football growing up. I know, because he used to tell me about how when he missed you, he'd go to football games, because you taught him how to play, and it reminded him of better times." Derrick stared at the pictures a long moment. "I tried to play when I was younger. Bas tried to teach me, but I wasn't all that good. Always fumbled the ball, wasn't much of a runner, didn't have the strength for tackling…"_

 _"So, football's not your thing." Damon shrugged. "You don't need to run or catch to play guitar."_

 _"Not much of a teacher, either. I'm not patient, not like Bas or mom or even Nyla."_

 _"I wouldn't call your sister patient..."_

 _"She is when she needs to be. I get bored too fast. It's like…" He shook his head. "I've got too much energy in me. I get restless and the next thing I know, I'm doing something stupid." He pulled the sleeves of his shirts down over his hands and balled them into fists. "Music gave me somewhere to put it. You can lose a lot of time just trying to get the tune you want."_

 _Damon stared at his profile, shoulders still a little stiff, but not so hunched. "What's going on, Derrick?"_

 _He turned to look at him, and then away, out the window. "I took the car again. It's not messed up or anything. I didn't even mean to. I just kind of… I don't know. I was coming back from Jessa's and it was sitting in the driveway. So, I took it. Drove it around town for a while. When I got back, your light was on. Figured I'd tell you now before one of the neighbors rats me out."_

 _He hummed. "That the only reason?"_

 _"That I'm telling you?"_

 _He nodded._

 _"I don't know. Kind of."_

 _Damon stared at him, waiting._

 _With a long sigh, Derrick walked over to a chair and slumped down into it. "I talked to Nyla last time. When I borrowed it and you got pissed at me. She said I should just talk to you."_

 _"About?"_

 _"Everything. About why I keep taking the car."_

 _"You've figured out why?" Damon tapped his pen against the edge of the desk. "Does it have anything to do with feeling like you don't fit in with the family?"_

 _Derrick looked up and finally met his eyes, holding on this time. "I don't, do I? I'm the black sheep in a family of half-vampire, half-witch weirdos."_

 _Damon's mouth kicked up, amused. "I think you fit in more than you think."_

 _He rolled his eyes, unconvinced._

 _"When I was your age, keep in mind it was the 1800's, but still… I was a lot like you."_

 _"You stole your dad's carriage or something?"_

 _He snorted. "Not exactly… I just, I did everything my dad didn't want me to. My dad didn't care about much, definitely not me or Stefan. Just his social standing, how the rest of the town saw him. So, I figured the only way to really get back at him was to make him look bad. Like he raised some jerk for a kid. It wasn't much, and it probably hurt me more than him, but… it was all I had."_

 _Derrick frowned. "So your dad, he was…"_

 _"Let's just 'asshole' would be an understatement." With a sigh, he sat forward at his desk. "Later, long after he died, I was still that angry kid trying to prove I didn't care what people thought about me. Truth was, I did care. I cared a lot. I just never figured out how to live up to expectation. So, I figured if I lowered people's expectations, at least I wouldn't be letting anyone down. Also not a smart move. The point is, I did a lot of dumb things because I never dealt with what was really going on."_

 _"What was that?"_

 _"I wanted someone to care. And I wanted to be good enough for them_ to _care."_

 _Derrick's knee jumped uncomfortably and he slumped down a little more in his seat. "So, how'd you change it?"_

 _"Took a lot of time, and some good people. Stefan never really gave up on me, even when he probably should have. And your mom, she was a big part of that. And then you and your brother and your sister came along. That was a big eye-opener." He shrugged. "Anyway, if your mom was in here, she'd tell you to just love yourself, 'cause you're a unique little snowflake and everybody matters. But your mom isn't here, so I'll just say this… You're my kid, Derrick. You're more like me than you probably deserve. But you lucked out here, because you've got two pretty awesome parents who'd burn the whole world down for you." He stared at him seriously. "I don't need you to play basketball or football or to be patient or teach anybody anything. I do need you to stop borrowing my car. You get restless, call me, we can figure out something better to do. All right?"_

 _Derrick hesitated a moment, but eventually nodded, short and sure._

 _"Cool. Now." He pushed up from the desk. "Are you hungry? I'm starving. I skipped dinner and I'm seriously craving pancakes."_

 _Slowly, the corner of Derrick's mouth kicked up. "I could eat a pancake."_

 _"See?" He hooked an arm around Derrick's neck and pulled him into his side as they left the office together. "Your father's son."_

 **(+++)**

Derrick knocked back his bourbon in a quick shot and sighed. "Can we go back to the part where you were giving me advice on Amelia?"

"Sure. Don't be a dick, respect her choices, if it's meant to happen, it will. That help?"

"Not really."

"You'll live." He clapped Derrick on the shoulder and then handed him his empty bourbon glass. "Your mom's not hiding in the kitchen anymore. I'm gonna sneak her off to a dark corner and make out with her."

As he walked away, Derrick called after him, "You're evil and I hate you."

He grinned. "Love you too, Kid."

* * *

 **…**

* * *

Bonnie was standing just outside of the parlor when Damon's hand slid over her hip and turned her to face him.

"Hey!"

"Hi." She looked past him to where a brooding Derrick. "How's he doing?"

"Still learning the finer art of romance, but he'll get there." He redirected her down the hall then. "Wanna get some air?"

"Looks like you do, so sure."

They made their way through the kitchen and into the backyard. The sun was setting, sending a purplish glow across the sky. A cool breeze rushed past and Damon shrugged his suit coat off, hanging it over Bonnie's shoulders. She tucked her arms through the sleeves and took his hand as they walked further into the yard.

"How are you doing?"

Bonnie smiled faintly. "I'm sad. Matt was one of my first friends."

"He was a good guy."

She nodded. "He really was."

"You know, it doesn't feel so long ago that I thought it'd be you… One day, I'd be standing over a grave, looking at your name carved in stone, and that would be it. No more chances. We'd used them all up."

Bonnie tugged him to a stop and turned, her hands settling on his sides, over the soft fabric of his vest. "I thought it would be, too. I told myself sixty years was plenty of time. I'd get to spend it with you and see our daughter grow up. I could've been happy with that."

"But…?"

"But this is better. Considering how many times we came a little too close to death, it feels like we cheated and got away with it."

Damon reached up, stroking her hair back from her cheek. "Yeah, we lucked out, didn't we? Three awesome kids, a _spectacular_ sex life, and no time limit…" He grinned down at her. "Regret marrying me?"

She tried and failed to smother her smile. "Not exactly."

"Good." He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Me either."

Bonnie hugged his waist and laid her head against his shoulder, smiling as he started to sway them side to side, leading them into a quiet dance.

"It's weird…"

"What is?"

"I'm kind of _grateful_ that I died."

"Yeah?"

She tipped her head back to look at him. "Yeah. In a strange way, my life didn't really start until it ended. When I came back, everything changed for the better. _I_ changed. I started putting myself first and going after what I really wanted. I was so scared back then that it would all end, but it made every second feel like a gift, and I never wanted to waste it. I would've been okay with sixty years because every day was a blessing. It still is. And Matt, he felt that way, too. He loved his family and his job. We were both lucky. He just had the wrinkles to show for it."

"And the grey hair."

She smiled. "And that."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to another sixty…" He twirled her around in a circle, their fingers hooked together above her head. The heels she was wearing brought her closer to his height, so when he drew her back in, their hearts lined up. "What do you say, Bon-Bon… You up for it?"

"Just sixty?"

He stared down at her. "To start."

Biting her lip, she nodded. "I can do that."

"Good." He laid his forehead against hers. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Bonnie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her heart beating steady and sure. "I know."

* * *

 **end**

* * *

 **note** : _it's finished! this is both a relief, and kind of sad. once i started writing little blips about the children's lives and bamon's family i started to get sad i couldn't write more for them. but, overall, i'm really happy with how this story developed. i liked exploring bonnie, her grief and her anger and the many ways i feel the show has failed her as an individual, the bennetts as a whole, and bamon as a duo. i can't say how the series will end, but i'm happy with the fics i've put out and will continue to write. i love this ship, i love the journey they were on, and i hope i did them justice in my own imagining of how they could be._

 _thank you all so, so much for reading. a huge thanks to those of you who were so kind and giving and donated to my ko fi account. it's such a big help in my journey to get a new computer, especially now that i'm without my own. i'm so touched by your generosity and your positive and supportive messages. i really appreciate it!_ ❤

 _thanks again for and, if you can, please try to leave a review_ _!_

 **\- Lee | Fina** _  
_


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